Evaluation of Loyalty
by Drama-Duchess
Summary: During a quest, Prince Arthur and Merlin encounter a strange magic fog. The situation soon turns deadly for Merlin when he is forced to sacrifice himself for Arthur. Merlin is injured and Arthur must get him back to Camelot before it's too late.
1. The Mysterious Fog

**The fic you are about to read is set somewhere between Season 3 and 4. No slash.**

**Title:**** Evaluation of Loyalty**

**Chapter 1****: The Mysterious Fog **

"Merlin! Run! Get out of here! I can't hold it off forever." Prince Arthur hollered at his manservant who was lying half-dazed among the fallen debris a few feet behind the Crixobus.

"I'm not leaving without you." Merlin cried loyally. Breathing quite heavily, he looked around frantically for something, other than magic, that would help Arthur.

A sickening, thunderous grumbling sound emerged from the Crixobus' throat, echoing off the remaining walls of the ruins. Slick black fur covered a bony four-legged frame, not to be underestimated at all with its wiry appearance, pounced through rock, crushing everything in its path. It had a boar-shaped jaw that held a mouth full of razor sharp teeth and two black holes for nostrils. Above its rubbery nose was a single orb-shaped eye that occasionally blinked. It stood on clawed feet and had a massive lizard-like tail that swept back and forth in anxiousness as it approached its prey. The mystical beast stood on its hind legs and raised his talons high above the fair-haired Prince of Camelot, about to strike.

Arthur had lost his sword during the scuffle and was currently using an old battle axe he found to defend himself. Cornered, he braced himself for the oncoming blow. Suddenly, the beast became distracted and turned its head.

Merlin was hurling rocks at the Crixobus, striking it squarely in the head. The beast growled in anger and swung its body around to face the young warlock.

"Merlin, you idiot." Arthur muttered under his breath.

The four-legged beast ran full speed towards Merlin in attack mode. It may seem that Merlin was clueless about what to do next, but in fact, he knew exactly what was about to happen. The spell he had in mind was already on the tip of his tongue. It was either flee or fight. Since there was no place left to run, Merlin could do only one thing – fight. He knew he risked Arthur finding out his secret, but under the circumstances, it was do or die. He will somehow manage the consequences when or if they make it out alive.

Merlin stood calmly facing the approaching beast. He allowed the strong magic to consume his mind and body. The intensity of the power rendered him lightheaded but he was nonetheless in control. It was only a matter of seconds before he would release the bolt of energy that would kill the Crixobus. Just as the gold began to flicker in his eyes, the beast stopped in his tracks and roared, as if in pain.

Arthur had flung the battle axe at the beast. The beast writhed in agony for a moment, and then it swung around to face Arthur. With the axe still lodged in between its shoulder blades, it walked threateningly towards the prince. Bluish blood poured from the lesion making small puddles on the ground. Arthur could smell the stench of the beast's hot breath upon him. Unarmed, he grabbed a long piece of wood from the debris to use as a weapon.

"No!" Merlin cried in horror as he watched the Crixobus' claws come down on Arthur.

Arthur, however, was quick and blocked the blow with the piece of wood. He took a swing at the beast, only to bruise it gently on the mouth. The next attempt with the piece of wood proved to be completely useless. The beast caught the wood in its mouth and snapped it in half like a twig, leaving Arthur unarmed once again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin noticed a silvery object partially covered under the rubble nearby. He dove for it and pulled out the sword that Arthur lost during the scuffle earlier.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted as he tossed the sword to Arthur.

Arthur caught it skillfully and drove the blade into the Crixobus' belly without hesitation. The giant beast shrieked in pain and staggered around in circles, seeming to be on the brink of toppling over. It twisted in agony and anger. With sword in hand, Arthur slipped out of the beast's view while keeping an ever so careful eye on his adversary. Just as the Crixobus caught sight of Arthur run by, it gave way to chase. Arthur spun around and, with all his might, forced the blade into the beast's single eye, blinding it in the process.

The Crixobus tottered about with puss running out of its empty eye socket. Arthur's first instinct was to protect Merlin, who appeared to be petrified by the towering beast twisting around in an attempt to shake the axe out of its back and at the same time get a sense of its surroundings. As Arthur ran towards Merlin, the beast groped the air with its claws, knocking down walls and things that were in its way. Debris crumbled and sprinkled all around a wide-eyed Merlin.

Blinded, but not deaf nor scentless, the Crixobus grew calmer and focused on the mission. It might have been a simple-minded assassin with an animalistic nature, but it wasn't a completely stupid assassin. Habitually, the beast relied more on hearing and smell rather than sight. Two black nostrils sniffed the air carefully and perked its pointy ears in the direction of the slightest noise. Upon hearing Arthur's footsteps, the Crixobus turned and in doing so, its thick slithering tail swung around.

"Merlin! Look out!" Arthur yelled, but it was too late.

The beast's tail caught Merlin in the chest and knocked him entirely off his feet. Merlin landed on his back some yards away with a loud thud. His head spun painfully and staying conscious was becoming an extremely difficult task. He groaned and desperately tried to remain awake.

Meanwhile, Arthur had the attention of the Crixobus. It sniffed and snorted in Arthur's direction. A swing of its claws was blocked by a jab of Arthur's sword. The beast was resilient and overpowering, not to mention its enormous height. Arthur lunged forward but the Crixobus in turn encountered the attack with a lash of its claws. The hit snagged Arthur on the arm and ripped his chainmail. He cried out in pain as the claws made contact with his skin. It was a minor graze and Arthur recovered ever so quickly.

The prince kept a watchful eye on Merlin, making sure that his servant was out of harm's way. He knew he could beat the Crixobus, but he just didn't know how at the moment. He had trouble figuring out its weakness. Each time Arthur moved location, the blind beast seemed to know exactly where Arthur had gone. He repeatedly blocked the blows the Crixobus set upon him. It finally dawned on him that he and Merlin could get killed.

Arthur was rapidly tiring and needed to think of something fast. Merlin pulled himself up in time to see Arthur backed against the wall once again by the blind beast. With its main focus on the prince, the beast seemed to have forgotten about Merlin, who approached quietly from behind. Merlin saw a window of opportunity when he noticed a large piece of the palace's high ceiling hanging dangerously above the Crixobus.

Without a second wasted, the young warlock's river blue eyes turned fiery gold and the magical words rolled off his tongue effortlessly. As a result, the ceiling came crashing down on the Crixobus, giving Arthur a chance to escape. Arthur did not retreat from his position. Instead, he sought this as a way to gain an advantage on the beast. He quickly climbed several platforms of rock until he came nearly face to face with the Crixobus. Arthur gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands and with all forced it into the beast's chest.

More rock fell as the Crixobus shrieked and thrashed about, knocking over pillars and half demolished columns. The unsteady rock dissolved beneath Arthur's feet and sent him plunging downwards. A quick stab of pain in the back of the head was the initial sensation upon impact with the ground. His vision blurred and numbness reached him limb by limb.

_I failed you, Merlin._ Arthur thought before letting the darkness envelope him. The last thing he saw before blacking out was an image of the beast's claw coming down on him.

Arthur may have thought he failed Merlin, but Merlin had no intentions of failing Arthur. Just as the beast was going to crush an unconscious Arthur, Merlin's eyes flashed a fiery gold and released a giant ball of energy onto the Crixobus. Electricity penetrated through the beast's body and fried every inch of its being. Gray smoke fogged the sky and for a moment, the air smelt of charred flesh and fur. The power from the blast carried the remainder of the beast weightlessly into the air. It slammed against a wall about a mile away and lay in a smoldering heap. The Crixobus did not even have a chance to make a sound before it died. This was Merlin's idea of humane killing – fast and effective.

Merlin muttered some enchanted words and reached out his hand. Like a magnet, Arthur's sword emerged from the pile of rubble and found its way into the young warlock's palm. He hurried to Arthur's side. Dropping down next to the unconscious prince, he surveyed the injuries and came to the conclusion that nothing was broken.

"Arthur, wake up." Merlin gave his master a nudge. A soft moan passed Arthur's lips before his eye lids fluttered open to reveal a pair of glassy blue eyes. As Arthur's vision came into focus, he saw the pasty face of his manservant looking down at him with concern.

"Merlin." Arthur groaned as he struggled to sit up and shake off the dizziness. His breaths were shallow but strength was gradually returning to his muscles. "W-what happened? Where'd it go?" He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand.

"It's dead." Merlin swallowed. "You killed it. Don't you remember?" He lied.

"Huh?" Arthur was confused and still dazed.

"You ran it through with your sword." Merlin tried to sound as convincing as he possibly could and presented the weapon to Arthur, who took it by the hilt.

"I did?" Arthur questioned as he studied the blade, trying to remember the beast dying by his hand.

"You did." Merlin insisted. "It stumbled over there and died." He nodded towards the dead beast.

Arthur alternated a glance between the lump of black fur in the distance and Merlin, who was sitting on his heels in front of him. It was most peculiar because that wasn't the way he remembered it. After he ran the blade into the beast, the rock beneath him crumbled and he had a fall. The beast looked very much alive, last he saw. And while on the ground, the beast had the advantage. But then again, that knock on the head was pretty hard and perhaps he'd been wrong about the whole thing. He rubbed his head again.

"_Mer_lin." Arthur's face suddenly hardened. "You idiot! What on earth were you thinking? Throwing rocks at a Crixobus? Have you lost your mind? You could've gotten yourself killed."

"B-but Sire. You were in danger. I-I had to do something." Merlin stammered.

"I had it under control." Arthur retorted proudly. Secretly, he was grateful to have such a noble servant who was willing to sacrifice his own life for his master.

"Sure you did. No doubt about that." Merlin smirked.

"Oh shut up." Arthur blurted in annoyance. "You're giving me a bloody headache."

An eerie prickly feeling ran down Merlin's spine and distracted him. Something unexplainable made him suddenly uneasy about the old palace in ruins. It was a queasy feeling spreading from the pit of his stomach. Perhaps the magic in his veins was trying to warn him that something really bad was going to happen. Either way, he just felt something wasn't right and they needed to leave.

The fearful look in Merlin's big saucer eyes was something Arthur mistook for an offense – a hurt feeling. Arthur was by no means unappreciative. He just had an odd way of displaying affection for his servant. Harsh words were often easier to dish out than compliments. If it came down to it, Arthur would not think twice about risking his own life for Merlin.

"Well, you _did_ manage to distract it long enough so I could get a clear shot with the axe." Arthur said, trying to give Merlin a little credit.

"We should get out of here." Merlin interjected nervously. He got up and extended a hand to help Arthur up off the ground.

"You are right for a change. This place gives me the creeps." Arthur replied and took Merlin's hand.

Merlin and Arthur were about to set foot out of the ruins when a sudden strange whirring noise came about. It was a rather odd pitch that was neither pleasant nor irritating. Each second that passed, the pulsating noise grew a decibel louder. The boys looked around trying to locate the source of the sound but it appeared to be coming from all directions. An eerie feeling got under Merlin's skin and he shivered slightly.

"What is that noise?" Arthur asked inquisitively.

Before Merlin could give any reply, a thin line of dusty grey smoke swirled out of the air. It had the same consistency as if someone was smoking a pipe. The smoke circled around the boys several times, catching their attention, before transforming into a fog-like state. It weaved and spread around them quickly. The dense fog became so incredibly thick that they could barely see their hands in front of their faces.

"What's going on?" Arthur gasped as he drew his sword and stood ready for a fight. Although, he couldn't be sure what it was that he would be fighting since he could see nothing beyond the fog.

"I don't know." Merlin answered, still rather confused. He knew this was magic and like Arthur, he was not sure how to defeat it. It frightened him to see everything being swallowed by this fog. It was like some sort of vacuum sucking all the colors of the earth and spun into a grey nothingness.

"Stay close Merlin." Arthur ordered.

"Arthur?" Merlin hollered as he grabbed a fist full of fog, trying to locate the prince. It was only a second ago that he was staring at the back of Arthur's blond head when the fog closed in and took everything away.

Arthur turned around to find Merlin's face disappearing into the thick fog. With his free hand, he tried to get a hold of Merlin before they became separated in the murky grey clouds. But it was done in vain. He was too late.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled, hoping to get a reply. But all he received was an echo of his own voice. The stale taste of fog entered his mouth. It soon clogged his ears and suffocated his nostrils. He shook his head to gain control of himself, though his vigorous movements only made things worst. The fog found its way around his neck. Before long, he was choking and gasping for air.

"Arthur?" Merlin cried to no avail. Somehow, he knew there would be no answer from Arthur. He suddenly became unusually calm. The thought did occur to him that there was something more to this fog than meets the eye. Until he knew what he was up against, it was pretty absurd to start casting spells into a mysterious cloud.

"Who are you?" Merlin shouted daringly into the fog. "Show yourself. What do you want?"

"I want lots of things." An enigmatic voice whispered in Merlin's ear. Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. Startled, he looked all around to find out where the voice came from. It took him a while to figure out that the voice came from within his ear.

"Why are you doing this?" Merlin inquired.

"Because I must." The voice answered. It was cold and raspy, like that of an old man. "In the end, it's all about survival. We do what we must."

"I don't understand." Merlin said in frustration.

"Oh but you will….young Emrys." The voice said most calmly. "You will."

"W-what did you call me? _Who _are you?" Merlin stammered nervously.

No one could describe the amount of terror and confusion that Merlin felt right then. Merlin was told repeatedly that it was imperative that he kept his identity a secret. He needn't ask for reasons and explanations anymore. He already knew why. He was supposed to progress into something great, something that would change history and fulfill destinies. It was also true that people with bad intentions wanted to find Emrys so they could harm him. Luckily, many sorcerers and witches have only heard about a certain Emrys, but were never able to match a face with the name. Some continue searching and still others remain ignorant, but as far as Merlin was concerned, the old physician would never sell him out.

There was something ambivalent, yet dangerous about this voice in the fog. Merlin couldn't quite determine if this entity had intent to harm. He thought about creating some lame excuse or logical explanation that it was a matter of mistaken identity. But somehow, deep in his gut, he had a feeling it was useless.

"You heard me." The voice said patiently. "I know who you are."

"Y-you seem to think you know who I am. Yet, I have no idea who you are or what you want." Merlin breathed in the fog and his throat suddenly felt parched.

"My identity is not important." The raspy voice whispered. "And as for what I want. Well, I'll get to that part eventually. You must have patience, young Emrys."

Merlin recoiled when the voice hissed the word "Emrys." The sharpness of the voice stung his eardrums. Merlin cupped his hands over his ears and waited for the ringing to subside. It really was a strange kind of pain for a few seconds, nothing like he'd ever experience.

"The prince is very stubborn and has the most erratic ways of going about things. He constantly manipulates and degrades you. He treats you like the dirty at his heels, well - like most people with power would. You speak your heart when you're with him. You don't always tell him what he wants to hear. You disobey and try his patience. You anger him, yet he oddly values your advice. You're not afraid of him." The voice said after a pause.

"How do you know all this?" Merlin asked.

"Your question is irrelevant. Let's just say, I have my sources." The voice said bluntly.

"Arthur may be difficult sometimes, but he's a good prince, and will make a great king."

"On a first name basis now, I see." The voice humored. "Your devotion to him is most peculiar. I just don't understand why he hasn't executed you yet."

"My job is to serve and protect my master." Merlin said proudly and desperately held his tongue against saying something he'd regret later.

"Oh, how noble." The voice said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Ah, but not many would risk his own life the way you just have."

"You saw what happened?" Merlin didn't know whether to be scared or be at ease.

"You killed my Crixobus." The voice reminded in a solemn tone.

"It was you. You're the one that sent the beast to destroy our lands?" Merlin said.

"Land – I'm not interested in land. I wanted to see for myself – if it was true that you'd do anything for him."

"So, this was all a game to you?" Anger seethed in Merlin's veins. He could feel the warm tingle of magic circulating in his blood. He stared into the fog in search of something but he saw nothing but a vast cloud of gray.

"I can feel your fury growing. You are very strong." The voice observed. "You should save your energy, young Emrys. Your magic will not work on me."

"Stop calling me that!" Merlin cried irritably. "You don't know me."

"Alright then, _Merlin_." The voice toyed. "What if I was to tell you that Prince Arthur will die?"

"It's not going to happen. Not if I can help it."

"How much are you_ really_ willing to sacrifice for him?" The voice teased. "Everything?"

"Yes. I would." Merlin said firmly and without a doubt.

Merlin saw something shiny appear in front of him within arm's length. It didn't take Merlin long to recognize it to be a dagger. This dagger was different than any dagger Merlin had ever seen. But then again, daggers were not an overly familiar territory with Merlin. He'd only seen a few in his life thus far. To the knights and as taught by Arthur, daggers were considered dishonorable and unethical. It was a violation of the code because of the fact that they could be hidden and used as an element of surprise.

This dagger twirled slowly in front of him as if flaunting its beauty. A spiral of gold wrapped around the hilt in an intricate design, which gave way to the curved cross guard encrusted with an array of precious gemstones. A sparkle of liquid silver color rippled in the sharp blade as it rotated hypnotically before Merlin. He was intimidated by the control the dagger had over him.

"The Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel." The voice sighed admirably. "But a dagger nonetheless. The dagger is not the most honest weapon of choice and certainly not preferred in a fair fight, but you must admit that it gets the job done. Small, yet deadly."

"Why are you showing me this?" Merlin's eyes grew wider as the dagger flew from left to right, as if mocking him.

"Ah, now you are asking the right sort of questions." The raspy voice sounded pleased. "Tintagel is where it all began. It may not be familiar with you now…but you will understand soon enough. For now, you are looking at the weapon that will be used to kill the prince."

"No!" Merlin snapped.

"I had a feeling you would object. Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" The sense of irony in the voice's humorous tone confused Merlin. "Let's just see _how_ loyal you really are."

The thickness of the fog shifted and Merlin could feel a breeze of air move around him. Light gray, dark gray and every shade of gray in between knotted together and rolled forth like a big dusty rain cloud. It turned and spun restlessly. Merlin felt the stickiness and humidity waft around his hands and face. He kept an eye on the dagger still spinning majestically in the air like some sort of bedazzled gyroscope on display.

Arthur, who had been trying to fight the fog around him, felt a similar sensation of a sudden light breeze. It didn't take him too long to realize that the more he struggled and fought, the harder it was to gain control over the fog. He watched in amazement as the fog eventually lifted itself and he could see the earth beneath his feet again. The colors of the world came back layer by layer and once again, he recognized his surroundings. With sword still in hand, Arthur whipped his head around in searching for an enemy to fight, but instead, he saw nothing but the dusty mass of fog thinning out into a mist.

To Arthur's surprise, he found Merlin standing about twenty feet away from him. Before the fog descended, he remembered Merlin to be standing not more than just a few steps behind him. He wondered how the fog managed to put so much distance between them. When Arthur deemed it safe and that no immediate threats were apparent, he slid his sword back into his scabbard.

Arthur called Merlin but somehow, Merlin seemed deaf to his voice. He noticed his manservant starring at something that appeared to be drifting in midair. Arthur was too far away to see what it was exactly but he observed it to be a shiny object glistening in the sunlight. He was about to make his way to Merlin when something stopped him in his tracks. Something felt wrong.

Meanwhile some twenty feet away, Merlin was watching the Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel suspended in the air. The word 'Tintagel' echoed in his head. Why did that word sound so familiar, yet so unfamiliar? Merlin swore it was completely foreign to him, but there was something in that word that made him feel like he'd heard it somewhere before. Suddenly, the voice reappeared. But this time, there was no fog.

"He will die. The beginning shall meet the end." The voice hissed in Merlin's ear one last time.

As soon as the voice vanished, the dagger was no longer suspended in the air. Like the hand of a compass gravitating towards north, the dagger swung around in its position and located the target. The dagger twirled in place with the blade pointed in Arthur's direction. Right then, Merlin snapped out of his trance and it finally dawned on him that the voice in the fog was serious. Arthur was going to die.

Merlin's river blue eyes widened with fear, anger, and despair all at once. He couldn't think of a spell fast enough that would stop the dagger from what it was about to do. He recalled how Gaius constantly reminding him what a powerful warlock he was and that he was capable of so much. But at that very moment, he was as useless as he felt. There were no spells or charms or any sort of magic that came to him. In fact, he was so petrified that he completely drew a blank, forgetting the talents he possessed.

Just before the dagger flew towards Arthur, Merlin could only think of one thing to save the prince. And that was to push Arthur out of the way. There was no time to waste. It was imperative that he got a head start. Somehow, he had a feeling the dagger was going to outpace him. Merlin suddenly sprinted towards Arthur. And just as he began to run, the dagger made a beeline for its intended target.

"Arthur! Arthur!" Merlin hollered frantically as he ran with all his might to save Arthur – to push him away or to shield him from the path of the dagger. There were no other words or sentences he could think of to say in such an intense situation. He only concentrated on getting there in time.

He saw Merlin running towards him with the enchanted dagger following closely. A sort of madness in Merlin's eyes made Arthur aware of the situation. He'd seen the same wildness in Merlin's eyes before. Merlin often wore this look when he was about to do something dangerously stupid – like try to sacrifice his life for Arthur.

Arthur had the reflexes of a cat, but right then, he couldn't move a muscle. Every inch of his being screamed for him to dive out of the way but both feet were rooted to the ground. He stood there and watched in horror as the blade of the dagger closed in on Merlin. Nothing could've prepared him for what was about to happen.

As Merlin just about reached Arthur, the gray fog came upon them again. It grew thick and suffocating. The fog took away the earth around him and deprived him of seeing anything except swirls of gray. Although Arthur could no longer see Merlin, he thought he surely would've felt his tackle by now. Merlin was only a few steps away, last he saw. But he felt nothing.

Instead, to his absolute horror, he heard a sickening sound like that of a sharp weapon running through cloth and flesh at a fast pace. This was followed by a loud agonizing cry of pain.

"No!" Arthur shouted. "Merlin! Where are you?"

He groped desperately in the fog, trying to grab anything he could get a hold of in front of him. He ran to where he thought Merlin was, but it was useless. The more he ran, the more it felt like he was going nowhere. He didn't want to believe it was Merlin's cry that he heard. He kept telling himself that Merlin is alright, that is all some evil trickery. The sick feeling grew in his stomach.

"MERLIN!" Arthur screamed on the top of his lungs, hoping he would get a response - perhaps a sound or a moan, or anything that would indicate Merlin was still alive. Instead, there was only a slight echo of his own voice. It just cannot be true. He refused it to be true. Merlin had done some pretty insane and outrageous things in his lifetime but he was his friend – his good friend. He couldn't afford to lose the one and only true friend he had.

The fog lifted itself suddenly and ascended into the sky revealing the earth and all its surroundings to Arthur again. His eyes followed the mysterious dusty gray cloud rise and dissolve into the sky. He realized the fog moved him once again because he was no longer standing at the same spot. He immediately looked around in search of Merlin, half expecting the servant to be standing somewhere waiting for him.

His heartbeat got caught in his throat when he spotted a dab of roan-colored fabric nearly hidden by a large slab of rock. The fabric was very familiar. He'd seen it before. It was the exact color Merlin wore that day. The very blood in his body ran cold. Arthur wanted to pretend that it wasn't what he thought it was, but he knew he'd just be burying his head in the sand. So, he quickened his pace.

As Arthur drew closer, he could see the fabric was really a shirt and the shirt had a body in it. Before long, he was staring at the back of Merlin's head. Merlin was lying flat on his stomach with his back facing Arthur. There was nothing but stillness in the air. Merlin did not stir. Arthur stared at the scruffy black hair, silently begging Merlin to make some sort of movement. Arthur's heart hammered violently against his chest as his weak legs stumbled towards the body. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Merlin.

Arthur was taught at a young age by his father that servants and other hired help were expendable and replaceable. They were worthless and existed only for the purpose of serving the royal court. Deaths, injuries and other ailments of the hired help were not important. As long as they got the job done, that was all that mattered. The rules for all employees were the same and if anyone should upset or disobey royalty, it was off to the dungeons or worse. From the start, Merlin had never been one to comply to anything if he didn't think it fair. He voiced his opinion, whether desired or not. Some would call this an act of foolish bravery but Arthur called it outspoken truth. Merlin was the only one ever to come eye to eye with him and allowed him to see things through a different perspective. It infuriated Arthur most of the time, but there was a reason why he kept Merlin. Merlin had become more than just a lowly manservant. He was a friend.

Dropping down to his knees beside Merlin, Arthur focused on Merlin's back, watching and waiting to determine signs of breathing. It worried him when he couldn't detect anything. Arthur wanted so badly to wake up from this horrifying dream.

Prepared for the worst, Arthur took a deep breath and with a shaking hand, he reached over to turn Merlin over to inspect the damages. He promised that whatever happens, he will seek justice and revenge for his best friend, Merlin.

**End Chapter 1**

**Author's Note: For anyone wondering about my _**"The Amulet of Avalon"**_** fic, I'm still trying to piece things together****.** Anyway,**** thank you for reading and please sign a review. Should I keep going with this fic?**


	2. First Aid

**Chapter 2:**** First Aid**

Merlin remained motionless on the ground before Arthur. It was so surreal and nothing of what Arthur ever wanted to have to witness. Merlin had always been selfless and when it came down to it, he would die for Arthur. This much, Arthur knew. In his anguish, he hated Merlin for understanding the meaning of sacrifice so well and having the will to go through with it. Perhaps Merlin believed he was nothing more than a worthless servant and that his life mattered very little. But to Arthur, Merlin was worth way more than he'll ever know. No, Arthur couldn't hate him. He could never hate him. Merlin was probably the only person who truly understood him.

Arthur couldn't believe this was happening. It only seemed like yesterday that Merlin was complaining about mucking out the stables and doing an extra load of laundry. Despite his constant grumbling, Merlin was always kept Arthur rather amused. He had a quirky persona and often had something to say about everything regardless of whether Arthur agreed on the subject. There were times when Merlin just pressed his luck and before anyone knew it, insults would be thrown at each other. But in the end, they always managed to make amends.

It occurred to Arthur how dull life would be without the clumsy servant shadowing his every step and absentmindedly annoy him. No one else in the entire kingdom would dare call the prince a clotpole or a prat, unless they were asking to be severely beaten or hung. Merlin was different. Merlin spoke his mind and when Arthur was being a complete ass, he would make it known. As much as Arthur loathed the insults, he would give anything to hear those words come out of Merlin's mouth one more time. He missed it already. And a wave of sadness swept over him. Merlin did not deserve to die like this. Arthur could not accept it.

Arthur disturbed the thin layer of debris that settled on Merlin's earth-toned clothing with his big calloused hands. He braced himself for the worst case scenario. Just as he grabbed Merlin by the shoulder, the warlock jerked and cried out in pain.

"Merlin! You're alive!" Arthur's grim facial expression suddenly changed into a relieved one. It was by far, the longest three seconds of Arthur's life. Not realizing the extent of Merlin's injuries, he softened his grip. "Tell me you're alright," Arthur begged.

Merlin appeared to be in too much pain to give a proper reply. There was only a soft moan followed by a heart wrenching sob. Every bit of movement seemed to cause him pain and his breathing became more labored with each passing second.

"Let me see where you're wounded." Arthur's voice was oddly gentle. "I'm going to turn you over." He instructed before delicately turning him around.

Merlin whimpered painfully when Arthur moved him. The first thing Arthur noticed was the blood. Seeing so much of it covering Merlin's chest gave Arthur a frightful start. Even though Arthur had been exposed to all sorts of maiming and mutilation of man during battle and punishment, things were very different when the person lying in front of him was someone he was so close to. Arthur was so stricken with emotion and grief at the ghastly wound that he nearly got sick.

There was a large rip in Merlin's shirt under the left collar bone that exposed the place where the dagger entered his body. Blood was still oozing out of the unsightly wound and stained the tatters of his shirt. Arthur realized the foolish servant had somehow managed to pull the dagger out, most likely in a panicked state, hence, the excessive bleeding. As he turned his head, Arthur caught sight of the blood-stained jeweled dagger laying innocently a few paces from where Merlin had dropped it. Its golden hilt was smudged generously with blood, as were Merlin's hands.

Merlin's face was white and ashy, definitely not the picture of health he used to be. His eyes were glassy and barely able to stay open. He was fighting consciousness and judging by the amount of blood he'd loss, he was probably going to lose the fight soon. As the initial shock wore off, Arthur quickly untied Merlin's neckerchief and used it as a bandage to stop the bleeding. Merlin was unable to bite back the pain when Arthur pressed the wadded up fabric onto the wound. Arthur cringed like as if he felt the pain too. The wound looked bad and it worried him, but he couldn't let Merlin see his uneasiness.

"You'll be alright, Merlin. We'll get you to Gaius and he'll fix you right up." Arthur promised.

Arthur saw the defeated and exhausted look in Merlin's eyes. "I know what you're thinking, Merlin. Don't give up. Do you hear me? I forbid you to give up. You can't refuse my wishes because I'm the prince that you answer to."

Not a word passed Merlin's bloodless lips. The world spun around him in slow motion, but his heart hammered aggressively against his chest, making it hard to breathe. When he tried to move, unbearable pain shot up his left arm. Lightheaded, he wasn't sure how much longer he could obey his master. He always hoped that when he died, it would be a painless death. It never occurred to him that he could die this way – painfully slow and messy. Seeing the blood truly frightened him. Merlin shouldn't be afraid of blood, especially since he followed Gaius many times as he tended to wounded knights and soldiers of the King's army. He'd seen so much that he should be immune to the very sight of blood. But this was his own blood coming out of his own body. The thought of bleeding to death terrified him. Merlin decided that this was an awful way to die. This was torture.

Physically and emotionally drained, his eyes told Arthur to leave him – that it was over and to just let him die. But somehow, deep in his heart, he didn't want Arthur to go. He wanted Arthur to stay so he wouldn't be so alone and scared when death came. With Arthur there, the idea of dying didn't seem so bad. At least he would have died in the comforting arms of the person he considered his best friend. He kept telling himself that this was worth it. This was for a greater good. He promised that if he had the chance, he would do it a thousand times over, as long as Arthur was safe. It was his life for the life of Prince Arthur. When Merlin thought of it that way, he felt quite satisfied and proud that he, who was nothing but a lowly servant, made the ultimate sacrifice of defending the future king. His last breath was for Arthur. Yes, it was worth it.

"You're not going to die." Arthur said in a rather unusually calm tone. It was like as if Arthur crept into Merlin's mind and knew what was going on in there. "I'll get us out of here."

Merlin understood why Arthur had to lie to him. As long as he was tricked into thinking everything was going to be alright, Merlin wouldn't feel the need to panic. It also created hope for both Merlin and Arthur. There were thousands of things Merlin wanted to tell Arthur before he died. He wished Arthur could understand why he did the things he did. He wished Arthur knew about the real Merlin - the warlock Merlin. He was so tired of tiptoeing around Camelot trying to keep his magic a secret. Was he going to take the secret to his grave? Perhaps this was as good a time as any to finally let Arthur know the truth.

Merlin tried to open his mouth to confess but Arthur interrupted. "Don't be an idiot and start complaining. It's the last thing I want to hear right now. You'll have plenty opportunities when we get back to Camelot."

Hearing Arthur so positive about the situation touched Merlin. Merlin knew Arthur had a soft side but he rarely showed it. Showing it meant disclosing vulnerability and Arthur would never do that. There was a time when Merlin used to be convinced that Arthur was a selfish, arrogant, royal brat. After a while, Merlin learned that Arthur may be well-privileged and stubborn, but underneath it all, he had compassion and a desire for justice. He knew that Arthur would never admit it, but in Merlin's heart, he knew Arthur was starting to have the makings of a great king.

Arthur took the jeweled dagger and slipped it into his belt. At first, he was reluctant in touching the awful weapon that hurt Merlin. The dagger looked completely foreign to him, but he figured that the fog was magical and it was because of magic that made this dagger appear out of nowhere. Perhaps Gaius would be able to make some sense of it.

Without further ado, Arthur fixed the makeshift bandage on Merlin's wound before hoisting him up over the shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Merlin couldn't help but choke a cry in spite of his painful disposition. It bit into Arthur's flesh to hear Merlin release such agony and he flinched, as if feeling the dagger himself. But Arthur refused to falter. He was not ready to reveal his inner feelings to anyone.

"We have to get to our horses by the gorge soon. Those clouds don't look very promising." Arthur said as he shot a glance at the dark menacing rain clouds that loomed overhead.

Indeed, the sun was setting in the west but a set of gray clouds gradually moved in. A storm was brewing and there was no telling when it might arrive. The winds have picked up quite a bit since their excursion into the ancient palace ruins. A silver streak of lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a soft rumble of thunder. Merlin's magic weakened from the injury rendering it hard to tell if there was something magical about the storm or if it was just Mother Nature's coincidence. He felt the magic in his body diminish to the point where it would probably take the remainder of his life force to even cast a spell.

As Arthur made his way out of the ruins and into the forest – going back the way they had been chased by the Crixobus. Merlin bit his lip at the pain inflicted from each bump caused by Arthur's quickened pace. A few moans and grunts were uncontrollable and Arthur pretended not to hear it.

For Merlin to say nothing, it was proof that he was hurt pretty bad. Merlin was not one that usually stayed silent for long periods of time. No one knew that better than Arthur. Something had to be terribly wrong to render the servant so withdrawn.

"We'll need to take shelter before it starts to pour. Unlike you Merlin, I'm capable." Arthur knew Merlin would not reply but he felt he had to keep talking to keep himself grounded. "After some water and something to eat, you shall be much better. Then tomorrow, in addition to scrubbing the floor, polishing my armor and cleaning the stables, you'll get to reorganize my entire closet…by color."

At that moment, Merlin really felt, in an odd sense, loved. It was the sort of love between brothers, something Merlin never had. Arthur had an odd way of showing his affection towards Merlin. He always managed to keep up appearances and acted very much the part of the spoiled and conceited prince, who always got what he wanted. He even got degrading and barking orders at Merlin down to a sport. But in the end, he favored Merlin above all others. Arthur would give his life for Merlin and Merlin would do the same.

Merlin realized it was very rare that any prince would go through so much trouble to save a servant. Other royals would've either put the servant out of his misery like some lame dog, or just left him to die. Arthur was different. He understood the value of loyalty and doing what was right. Arthur's way of showing Merlin affection was through insults.

They reached the foot of the gorge where they left Llamrei and Gringolet to graze. The two horses lifted their heads as Arthur approached with Merlin in tow. In recognition of her master, Llamrei snorted and tossed her mane. "Whoa, girl." Arthur murmured as he patted the mare's neck.

Arthur kept an eye on the rain clouds above as he gently deposited Merlin onto Gringolet's back. With one leg on each side of the horse, Merlin leaned forward and had a pale cheek against Gringolet's mane. Arthur noticed Merlin's complexion had gotten one shade more dreadful as he strapped the servant securely onto the saddle. Arthur tied Gringolet's reins to Llamrei's saddle and mounted the horse. He spurred Llamrei forward and made haste to find shelter.

M.M.M

The blood loss rendered Merlin so incredibly fatigued that he must've either fallen asleep or fainted somewhere along the way because when he woke, he found himself lying on the ground with a wool blanket drawn up to his chin. Everything around him was dark except for the small fire that flickered and burned beside him. The warmth emanating from the flames made his face toasty and comfortable. Merlin saw a figure crouching by the fire. It was Arthur. He was busy doing something. Merlin's blurry vision made it hard to tell what it was that Arthur was doing. He closed and reopened his eyes.

Arthur was crushing something in a small clay bowl with a pestle. On the ground next to Arthur were a few long green thick, fleshy leaves with white flecks. The edges of the leaves were serrated, with small white teeth-like thorns. It reminded Merlin of a flat cactus. Merlin could see the serious, faraway look in Arthur's profile as he continued to press and grind whatever was in that small bowl. Arthur didn't seem to notice that Merlin was awake.

There was dark all around, yet it didn't feel like he was lying in the forest. Merlin looked up to where the sky was supposed to be - but there were no clouds, no night sky, no stars, and no tree tops. In fact, it was just blackness. His nose caught the musky smell of the horses and heard an occasional bray or clicking of hoof against the ground. And somewhere farther, he heard the constant pitter of rain.

When Merlin inhaled a quick breath, a sharp pain caused him to cough. The sound drew Arthur's attention. Merlin winced and tried to take shallower breathes and choked a little in the process. It felt as though an elephant was sitting on his stomach.

"You're awake." Arthur's serious expression turned into a pleased one. He set the small clay bowl down and took a tin cup containing water. "Here, drink this." Arthur made his way closer to Merlin. He lifted Merlin ever so slightly and put the cup to the servant's parched lips. Merlin swallowed some water greedily and when he was done, Arthur laid him back down.

"Where are we?" Merlin croaked.

"The Grottoes of Sirus." Arthur answered. "We're in one of the caves. It's a good, dry place to wait out the storm. It's too dark and wet to continue. We'll start for Camelot at first light. If we go through The Grottoes, the journey will take half the time." He took up the small clay bowl and pestle, and continued to grind the contents.

"W-what are you doing?" Merlin's voice was weak and barely audible.

"I'm just about finished." Arthur said as he stopped grinding. He acted a bit jittery under Merlin's inquisitive stare. Arthur avoided eye contact because he couldn't bring himself to looking Merlin in the eye. To Arthur, Merlin was just a servant, who didn't know the first thing about fighting or protecting himself. He didn't even know how to hold a sword for heaven's sake. Arthur felt responsible for Merlin's safety. He was supposed to protect the defenseless servant, but instead, he allowed this to happen. He'll never forgive himself if Merlin dies. It scared him that Merlin was getting worse.

"It's a little remedy trick for relieving pain that I learned from Gaius. It's something all knights must learn. Besides, you never know when it might come in handy." Arthur said proudly. "Its pulp from abegania leaves, a few sucrosis seeds, and a dab of raedulus oil."

"I'm not going to eat that." Merlin cringed at the paste in the clay bowl. It had the texture of dog drool and no way was Merlin going to put it in his mouth, no matter how great the effects. Besides, it smelled funny.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin." Arthur sighed exasperatedly. "It's not for you to eat. It's supposed to go on your wound."

"Oh." Merlin replied, fairly embarrassed.

Arthur proceeded to undo the neckerchief that served as a temporary bandage. It was blood-soaked and completely useless now. He cleaned the wound the best he could without causing Merlin any discomfort. Merlin gazed at Arthur and tried to detect anxiety or reason for concern. Arthur kept a clenched jaw and tried very hard not to let Merlin know anything. It was for Merlin's own good. But Merlin was not always the idiot that he appeared to be. He knew that look on Arthur's face.

"Alright now, this might sting a little." Arthur warned as he dipped a piece of torn fabric into the mixture and swiped up a generous helping. He knew about the effect of the medicinal paste. It was going to be like rubbing salt into a wound. But he didn't have to tell Merlin that bit of information.

As expected, Merlin gave a bone-chilling cry the moment the paste made contact. It was so excruciating and agonizing that it even gave the horses a start. Llamrei and Gringolet scuffed their hoofs and snorted. Merlin's unbearable screams would be enough to give Arthur nightmares for a week. He refrained from letting anything get to him. His facial expression was cold as ice but his heart was melting with utter grief. Arthur had to look away.

Not only was Arthur pressing down on the wound, but the remedy that was meant to relieve pain actually caused more pain. But Merlin understood. He tried with all his might to hold back the scream, but he just couldn't. A hot blinding pain shot through his whole body like electricity. There were no words to describe the amount of suffering he felt.

Magic had always been Merlin's defense mechanism. It was second nature to him – moving objects around the room, manipulating objects, displacing people, and other easy spells that didn't require a lot of thinking. Some of the harder spells that involved more concentration were the ones that took up most of his power. These were the ones that required skill, direction and practice, some of which he still needed to work on. Gaius used to speak of prophecies and destinies, but Merlin always doubted the big picture. He often questioned his destiny and wondered how he could make a difference at all. Besides, Merlin never felt as powerful as he was told. Magic was part of his life and made him who he was. He treated it as nothing more than a survival instinct and would never use it to deliberately hurt anyone.

At that moment, Merlin felt the blueness in his eyes turn fiery gold. The magic was coming and there was nothing he could do to suppress it. Magic was his protection and when he felt threatened, magic usually took over. There was really no way around it. Merlin was born with this gift, or as he called it sometimes – a curse. He did not want Arthur to find out about his magic this way. Sometimes, words were better than actions and Merlin preferred to tell him about his magic with words. Merlin closed his eyes so Arthur won't see what was happening to him. He willed the magic to calm in his body.

"Merlin?" Arthur called when he noticed Merlin's body had stopped twitching. He studied his servant's ashy face. Merlin had his eyes shut and was breathing quite heavily. His lips parted slightly and beads of perspiration formed on his white forehead. He appeared to be completely consumed with exhaustion.

"Merlin, can you hear me?" Arthur said in a near whisper. Suddenly, he wondered if he got the remedy right. He ran over the procedure a dozen times in his head and came to the conclusion that he made no mistakes. It was just that Merlin seemed so way off. Perhaps he expected the remedy to work a miracle and heal Merlin in an instant.

Merlin heard Arthur but was afraid to give an answer. To give an answer meant having to open his eyes and doing that meant revealing to Arthur who he was. There was no telling if he could control the fiery gold in his eyes. He needed more time to ease the magic. Merlin's labored breathing was ragged with a few soft moans mixed in.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this. This is my fault. I should've been there." Arthur muttered under his breath.

Merlin heard the sound of splitting fabric as Arthur tore another piece of fabric to use as a fresh bandage. He fixed the bandage and gave Merlin another drink of water, which he gulped down feverishly.

Merlin was lowered back to the ground and the same coarse wool blanket was pulled to his chin.

Arthur became occupied with washing the blood from his hands. The blood truly upset him. Not because it took so much effort to get it off, but because it was Merlin's blood. Until Merlin came along, he never knew what it was like to have a real friend who didn't suck up to him just because he was a prince. Merlin was different than anyone he knew. He had the nerve to stand up to him when no one else dared. It was Merlin who shaped him into being an unselfish person. And now, the very blood of that friend had stained his hands. Arthur thought it ironic how he was a skilled knight and a prince - practically fearless of anything – yet he couldn't fathom how incredibly vulnerable and scared he was right then, feeling Merlin's sticky blood between his fingers. Once Arthur's hands were free of the blood, he began cleaning Merlin's hands with a piece of fabric and a bit of water.

Before long, Merlin started to feel a tingling sensation in his wound, followed by an odd sense of numbness. His muscles were tight and he still couldn't move his left arm but the pain was dramatically less. He opened his eyes.

"It's working." Merlin's voice was hoarse.

"Well, it's only temporary." Arthur said. "The effects will wear off but at least it'll help with the pain until we get you to Gaius."

"Impressive." Merlin said.

"Did you really think I wouldn't be prepared for something like this?" Arthur looked up. It was the first time he met Merlin eye to eye when he spoke. "Gaius made sure all of the knights, myself included, knew something about how to administer to wounds. Why else do you think he insists I carry a vial of raedulus oil and a pouch of sucrosis seeds in my saddle bag? The abegania plant grows wild in the forest and can be found everywhere, so there's no need to carry a supply of it."

"Like I said," Merlin paused and drew a short breath. "Impressive."

"Gaius calls it _first aid_." Arthur shrugged. "I call it _being prepared_."

"Always thought you were thick in the head. Didn't th-think you had a knack for the sciences." Merlin could barely talk above a whisper. It was his attempt at an insult, trying to keep light of the situation. He knew Arthur was very short-tempered prince and would never let anything go without having the last word. He waited for a defensive insult from Arthur, but he never got it.

"Let's just say I'm a man of many hidden talents." Arthur replied as he finished wiping Merlin's hands. He was trying hard to refrain himself from degrading his servant with abusive words since death's door was so near.

"You're hurt." Merlin said eyeing the untreated gash on Arthur's arm.

"Oh, it's nothing." Arthur said nonchalantly. "Just a small cut. I'll live."

There was a rather uncomfortable silence that separated prince and servant. The only thing heard for the next few seconds were an occasional roll of thunder and the continuous tapping of rain outside the cave. The soothing sound of wood crackling in the fire made them glad to be out of the rain. Merlin's breathing steadied a great deal since the pain-reducing paste had been administered, but apparently not enough for Arthur. He could still hear Merlin's short, wheezing breaths.

"Arthur." Merlin said. Arthur sensed the seriousness in Merlin's tone. As much as Merlin had been proactive in survival, everything in Merlin's river blue eyes told Arthur that he was beaten. "It really has been an honor serving you. I don't want you to ever think that I'm not grateful. I have no regrets."

"No Merlin. I don't want to hear it!" Arthur exclaimed. Agitated, he knew where this conversation was headed and he hated it. "I don't want to hear the whole I'm-happy-to-be-your-servant-till-the-day-I-die speech. I don't want to hear it because you're not going to die. You're crazy, Merlin. A complete imbecile! An idiot! I don't know why you think the things you do. You stupid idiot!" He cried in anguish.

The rage in his system was uncontrollable. He was angry at Merlin, angry at himself, angry at the world. It should've been him lying there, not Merlin. He wanted so bad to trade places. Arthur was on the brink of tears but he held it in as best he could. He could never let Merlin see him cry. Princes don't cry in front of their servants and they certainly don't cry _because_ of their servants. Merlin had his flaws but he was always there for Arthur when he needed a friend. The notion that Merlin could die was not acceptable.

Just as he grit his teeth and was about ready to go another round in berating Merlin on his idiocy and madness, Arthur caught the weak smile upon Merlin's lips. Suddenly, Arthur knew what Merlin was trying to do and it worked. No one knew Arthur's explosive personality better than Merlin. Merlin had his ways of getting Arthur to do what he wanted. Arthur's mood changed and he smiled back. He hoped Merlin didn't see the tears that were welling in his eyes. Then again, aside from the light from the fire, it was pretty dim in that cave.

"I never got the chance to thank you for what you did back there." Arthur finally said. "You saved my life."

"You don't have to thank me. It's my duty." Merlin's voice was slow and feeble. He winced slightly.

"I must admit that I've never had a servant quite like you. All the others knew where to draw the line. But with you, it's different. Never do as you're told. You go beyond the call of duty. You're willing to give your life for me. Sometimes, I don't understand why you're so loyal to me." Arthur said.

"You're going to be a great king." Merlin replied. "Servant's life is not important when it comes to a greater good."

"I won't have you talking nonsense." Arthur reprimanded. "You _are_ important, Merlin. You're important to me."

"Sire…" Merlin swallowed.

"Oh don't 'sire' me. I mean it, Merlin! You have to stop doing stupid things like this." Arthur raised his voice.

"It's not stupid."

"Why can't you just accept a thank you without being such an ass about it?" Arthur heaved a sigh.

"Alright then, you're welcome." Merlin said softly.

"See, it wasn't so bloody hard, now was it?" Arthur tried to smile. "I don't know what happened in that fog or what it all meant. But I know an evil force when I see one. That fog was evil." The prince had his mind made up. Anything that posed as a threat to either him or Merlin would be considered "evil."

"Arthur, there's something I need to tell you." The serious tone in Merlin's voice returned.

It was a hard decision to make. Merlin gave it quite a lot of thought before settling on the decision to come clean. He knew where his life was headed and his biggest fear was not getting the chance to tell Arthur the truth. The last thing Merlin wanted was for Arthur to learn all this from someone else. And the thought did occur to him that there could be a slight possibility that he'd live after his identity was revealed. It would change everything. But in a kingdom where magic was strictly forbidden and those who practiced magic were severely punished, Merlin figured he had nothing to lose since he would be sent to his death anyway. A tiny part of him wanted to believe that perhaps Arthur would understand and accept him. But as long as King Uther was alive, Arthur had no say in the matter.

Nevertheless, the young warlock needed to confess to Arthur about the magic and about his destiny. He needed to tell Arthur who he really was and why he had to do the things he did. Two sides of the same coin – Arthur needed to know. As long as Merlin was able, he wanted to be the one to explain everything to Arthur. He owed him that much.

"No Merlin. You need your rest." Arthur interrupted. "Whatever you need to tell me, you can do so when you feel better."

"Please, it's important." Merlin insisted.

"I'm sure it is. But right now, you need to sleep. You've lost a lot of blood. You must be tired." Arthur said as he tossed another branch into the fire. His voice was neither harsh nor bitter. The advice came out surprisingly affectionate and gentle, which was quite unlike the Arthur that Merlin was used to.

"I – I just want to tell you in case I don't…." Merlin flinched slightly from some small pain.

"You'll have many chances to tell me what's on your mind. Now's not the time for talking. You'll sleep and when you wake, you'll be stronger."

"I hope you can forgive me," Merlin swallowed. "For keeping it from you. And – and hope maybe someday you'll come to understand."

Merlin may not have been aware of it, but his speech was starting to slur and drift off. He was so focused on telling Arthur what he had to tell that he ignored the slightly blurring of his vision. He was convinced the distortion was a trick cast by the shadowy afterglow of the fire.

"There will be no more talk. You get some rest – go to sleep. Whatever it is that you have to say, will be said later, when you get your strength back. Your job is still to obey." Arthur's familiar callous tone returned. "Last I checked, I'm still the prince. My wishes are your commands, remember?"

Arthur couldn't bear to listen to Merlin speak as though it was the last night of his existence. Merlin had been through a lot and it, no doubt, traumatized him. Perhaps Merlin wasn't speaking with a rational mind. He just seemed so determined to tell Arthur something that Arthur felt slightly bad for cutting him off. Although Arthur was curious about what Merlin had to say, there was no way he could stand to have Merlin continue his speech especially when he looked so awful. He needed sleep and rest.

"But…" Merlin made one last defiant attempt.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur spewed.

Merlin gave in and closed his eyes. He hadn't realized how extremely exhausted he was until that very moment. Although the core of the pain had decreased tremendously, he still felt some aches and soreness in his muscles. The hard ground beneath him was uncomfortable and smelt of iron. It was mixed with the strong scent of charred firewood. With the fire going and blanket tucked around him, he still felt an unusual coldness. He wanted so much to be nestled in a sea of warm blankets and soft pillows. He craved Gaius' attention and care. Regardless of his surroundings, the weight of his body grew heavier and heavier as darkness spun in his head. He soon surrendered into a deep sleep.

Sleep did not come easy for Arthur. So many questions filled his mind, making sleep rather impossible. Was Merlin going to be alright? What was the meaning of the fog? Where did the jeweled dagger come from? Why was there an attempt made on his life? Did Merlin know something about it? Who was the one behind all this?

Arthur had a feeling the jeweled dagger was somehow involved. And he figured if anyone would know about this mysterious dagger, it would be Gaius. Besides, the sooner he got back to Camelot, the sooner Merlin could receive medical help and the sooner he could ask Gaius for an explanation. Arthur had always been an impatient prince. When he wanted something done, there was no time like the present. If he had an idea, he wanted it to be set into motion instantly. It was both a blessing and a curse. Merlin often reminded him that sometimes, rashness served no victory. Arthur had to think things through – play devil's advocate and assume all the consequences of his actions. It was good advice and Arthur always remembered it.

Arthur walked to the opening of the cave and studied the sky. With sky still plagued by thunder and lightning, the rain pounded the earth with heavy drops. Gusts of wind howled and the black silhouette of treetops swayed. Merlin's condition worsened and Arthur wanted to start for Camelot immediately. But Arthur knew it was impossible. They could easily get lost and stranded in the rain. The smart thing would be to stay put and wait until first light.

After a checking on the horses, Arthur returned to tend to the fire. He took his blanket and doubled Merlin's blanket. Arthur would be lying if he didn't think it was cold as ice in that cave, even with the fire going. But he felt Merlin needed the blanket more than he did. He sat close to the fire and warmed his hands before reaching for the saddle bag. He'd forgotten how hungry he was after helping Merlin. Arthur looked into the bag and scanned its contents: a package of dried vegetables and dried sausage, some spices, a loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and four apples. It was the meal that Merlin would be preparing for him if none of this had happened.

Merlin was not any form of expert cook but he knew what it took to survive. Arthur remembered watching Merlin cook when they were away on journeys and hunting trips. The servant would boil water in a travel pot and add the dried ingredients and spices. It became an instant soup – nothing like from the kitchens of Camelot, but it was a good and hearty meal. Arthur ripped half the bread and sliced a section of cheese with his knife. He had to eat and keep his strength if he wanted to make it back to Camelot. Merlin made it clear he had no appetite for food. Instead, he desired sleep. Arthur was all the more anxious to get Merlin back to Gaius.

Once Arthur finished his meal, he watched the hypnotic flicker of flames dancing in the fire. Lost in his thoughts, he remembered all those times they set off on adventures and hunting trips. He had to admit that Merlin felt the lash of verbal abuse practically nonstop, but deep down inside, the prince enjoyed Merlin's idiosyncratic self. The instant meals on the road were simple and far from being gourmet, but the company was good. Right then, he never felt so alone in the presence of Merlin.

_I'm sorry, Merlin. This is my fault. I caused this to happen to you. I put you in danger. I should've gone on this quest alone. I won't forgive myself if you die._ Arthur thought bitterly. He'd done all he could for the ailing servant. But somehow, he felt like it wasn't nearly enough. He allowed a few tears of despair escape, as long as no one was around to bear witness to his vulnerability.

_How could you do this to me? Does your life mean nothing at all? Why do you take these risks? I don't know how I could've ever called you a coward, Merlin. You're not a coward. You've come through for me every time. You're as brave as any knight under the King's service. You can't die, Merlin. You just can't! Don't you understand what your friendship means to me? Don't you know that you're the only one I trust? You're the only one I can turn to._ Arthur'semotions changed so rapidly from seething anger to complete sadness. The tears were genuine. These were Arthur's private feelings – things that he would never dare say to anyone.

Arthur brushed the tears away with the back of his hand and quit crying. His eyes focused on the rise and fall of Merlin's chest as the servant slept. As long as Merlin breathed, it meant he was alive. Arthur listened to the sound of steady but ragged breathing. Tired from crying and suffering the day's toil, Arthur closed his eyes. He wanted very much to remain alert and hold vigil over Merlin until morning, but he was so very tired. He fought the exhaustion that weighed down on him mentally and physically. He dozed but ever so lightly. He couldn't allow himself to pass out completely.

Unlike Arthur, Merlin fell deeper and deeper into his troubled sleep. The young warlock couldn't get up to save his life. The exhaustion and blood loss took its toll and he had to let go of consciousness, worries, and everything in between. He just didn't have the strength to hold onto anything solid and so, he drifted farther and farther away from reality. His body was damaged and dying.

Merlin was oblivious to his surroundings. He didn't feel Arthur shaking him, telling him dawn was breaking and that they had to leave. He didn't feel the pain when Arthur cleaned his wound and changed his bandages. He didn't feel the cold tickle of water drizzling down his throat when Arthur propped him up like a ragged doll and tried to feed him water. He didn't feel being lifted onto Gringolet nor did he feel the bumpiness of the road as they travelled into the forest. He didn't hear the anxious hum of conversation and alarmed tone of the knights when Arthur rode through the gates of Camelot. He didn't hear the urgency and authoritativeness of Arthur's instructions as he dismounted Llamrei. He didn't hear the intense words of compliance, the "yes, Sire", "right away, Sire", and "as you wish, Sire" as a thousand feet sprang into action. He didn't feel Sir Percival's strong arms lifting him up and carrying him to Gaius' chamber. He didn't feel being lowered onto the bed by the fire. And he did not witness the look of complete horror on Gaius' face upon seeing what became of his beloved ward. If Merlin could've seen the pain in Gaius' eyes, he would've understood how much he meant to the old physician.

Merlin's bloody shirt was cut open in a matter of seconds. If anyone could save Merlin, it would be Gaius.

**End of Chapter 2**

**Author's Note****: Thank you for reading! Please sign a review? **


	3. The Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel

**Chapter 3:** **The Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel**

_Am I dead? I'm dead. I know I must be dead. If I was alive, Arthur would be yelling at me, telling me I have to polish his armor, wash his laundry, and clean his room. If I was alive, I would feel pain. I'm certain I don't feel it, so it must be true – I'm dead. _Merlin thought foolishly. He wondered how it actually felt when one died. Is possible to be confused and not know one had died? Or would one know it automatically? How would he be able to tell the difference? Merlin figured since he'd never been dead before, he had a right to wonder these things.

Merlin wandered in the darkness for a while, trying to decide whether he was dead or alive. He wondered why it was so dark. If he had passed on, wouldn't there be something to see? Perhaps some sort of light? Would there not be someone to greet him at the pearly gates of heaven? How could they not know he was coming? Weren't they were supposed to know everything up there? But if he was truly dead, would he still be able to ask these questions? Just when he made up his mind that he died, consciousness returned to him.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a dimly lit, yet blurry image of a brown wood-beamed ceiling. It was a very familiar-looking ceiling. He'd seen it a million times and the fond memories of Gaius flooded his mind. Was he dreaming? How did he end up in Gaius' chamber? The last thing he remembered was lying in the cave by the fire.

Merlin's senses gradually returned to him, confirming that he was very much alive. There was a funny taste in his mouth. It was an odd flavor that reminding him of a cross between maple syrup and some sort of pungent herb. He swallowed several times to get the saliva going and rid himself of that awful taste.

There was another sensation that was highly noticeable in addition to the excruciating pain. He felt unusually warm. His blanket had been pulled down to his waist. It took him another few seconds to realize that he was sweating something fierce. His cheeks burned with fever and small beads of perspiration dotted his face. It tickled and made him rather uncomfortable. He wanted to wipe it away but when he tried to move his arm, an intense spot of pain consumed his body. It felt like acid being poured onto his flesh.

Merlin must've moaned pretty loud because almost instantly, he heard the scuffling sound of two sets of footsteps approaching his bedside. Soon, Gaius' worried, but relieved wrinkled old face appeared in Merlin's view.

"Merlin?" Gaius called anxiously.

"What? How?" Merlin stammered in a confused and distraught state. His lungs were on fire each time he drew in a breath of air. He was in tremendous pain and feeling mighty sick.

"It's alright. Arthur brought you back home. You're safe now." Gaius reassured. He immediately dipped a cloth into a basin of water, wrung it, and wiped Merlin's face. The coolness of the cloth felt so good against his feverish skin, making it the first "good" feeling he had in a long time. He was so pleased that he couldn't help but let out a soft, satisfied sigh.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Another voice in the room said. There was a hint of apprehension and concern in that masculine voice. Merlin turned his head and saw a figure sitting on a chair by his bed. For a second, the expression in Merlin's eyes seemed to say he didn't recognize the stately prince that had just spoken.

"Merlin, you do know who I am, don't you?" Arthur leaned forward and spoke as if in a near whisper, studying his servant closely.

Groggy and faint, Merlin needed a moment for the images to come into focus. All he saw for a few seconds was a blob of straw blond hair and a blob of grayness. He breathed in and closed his eyes. Just when Arthur felt there was reason to be alarmed, Merlin's eyes opened.

"Dollop head." Merlin said impishly. He sounded weak and fragile, but a small smile crept upon his ashy lips.

"Ah, the idiot speaks." Arthur replied. Never was he so glad to hear the word "dollop head" and never was he so glad to have heard it come out of Merlin's mouth. "Gaius says you're going to be alright."

"You've got quite a nasty wound there." Gaius said while wiping Merlin's forehead and neck with the damp cloth. "I see Arthur did right in producing the abegania paste and applying it to help with the pain. It's normal you should feel tired from the blood loss. I'm just thankful Arthur got you back in time." He decided not to tell Merlin about the infection in the wound. There was no need to cause Merlin to panic. And besides, Merlin's fever broke, so this was a good sign that the worst was over.

"We've been back in Camelot since noon. The short cut through the Grottoes of Sirus paid off." Arthur said for conversation sake. "But you probably don't remember the journey back. You were unconscious and looked pretty bad. I hoped I wasn't too late."

"Thank you, Sire, for saving my life again." The wretched tone of Merlin's voice was almost too much to handle for Arthur. No matter what obstacle life threw at Merlin, he was always strong and resilient. And now, Merlin was reduced to a terrified and nervous wreck. This was a change that Arthur had never seen and it affected him dearly.

"Well, I'd say we're even." Arthur said. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be the one lying in that bed."

"Thanks all the same." Merlin winced slightly.

"I spent two hours explaining to father what happened. I tried to tell him about the fog but he didn't seem too concerned with it. Apparently, he was only pleased to hear that the Crixobus was found and killed, and that I came out unscathed. I think that's pretty much all he cared about."

"The Crixobus destroyed many acres of crops and fed heavily on the kingdom's livestock. If it hadn't been stopped, it would've wiped out everything within a matter of weeks. It's right for the king to be anxious about these stately affairs." Gaius said, sensing Arthur's disappointment in his father for being a heartless man.

Gaius knew Arthur was starting to form character and a sense of righteousness. Things had changed him. Merlin changed him. Gaius always knew Arthur had compassion and empathy underneath the armor of unyielding cruelty towards Merlin. Arthur didn't show it often but, Gaius knew it was there.

"He says he's proud of me for killing the beast." Arthur didn't seem like he wanted the credit. Though Gaius had a feeling Merlin had something to do with it. "You know how much father likes to celebrate when something goes his way. There will be a banquet tomorrow night. He's already had half the castle running around making preparations. The high council will be there as well as the court noblemen, Knights, basically everyone. Meanwhile, I'm thinking about not attending. I'm not in the celebrating mood."

"You have to go." Merlin said. "It's a party in your honor. You don't need to worry about me."

"Do you honestly believe that you're the reason I'm not going? Surely, you think too highly of yourself." Arthur chided. As much as he denied the reason, it was true. He couldn't go to the banquet, be merry, and pretend all's right with the world when Merlin was confined to a bed. Merlin nearly died in his arms. It just didn't feel right for Merlin to be absent from his side during a banquet. And he will not substitute Merlin.

"It's alright." Merlin said, giving Arthur a wry smile. He knew Arthur pretty well and it was easy to guess what he was thinking. "Please go. You can tell me what I missed later."

"Well, perhaps I could boast a little. After all, I'm the hero here." Arthur said half in jest. But in all honesty and whether or not he would ever admit to it, he couldn't have done it without Merlin's help. He caught Merlin's gaze and for a split second, he could've sworn Merlin read his mind. Merlin's damp black hair matted against his clammy feverish forehead and his eyes were huge and forgiving. "Look, I'll have some food brought to you and Gaius. No doubt father would have ordered the fattest cow and the finest boar slaughtered for the occasion already. It should be a tasty meal."

Just the thought of food made Merlin's stomach knot up, but he didn't have the heart to complain when Arthur was being so civil. Merlin hadn't eaten anything aside from water in the last day and a half. Many times Merlin had seen and served the wonderful, delicious and mouth-watering food prepared by the court kitchens but he'd never actually been invited to taste it. Servants were not allowed to share the same food as the people of royalty and the high court. It was simply a separation of class rule and Merlin understood. But it didn't stop him from wishing he could taste it just once. Now that wish was finally coming true and he had no desire for food. Though, he wasn't aware of the fact that Gaius had given him nutrients in the form of medicine poured down his throat some hours ago.

Merlin noticed Arthur had changed out of his armor and was looking quite clean in his regular clothes. It just amazed him how close he came to spilling his secret. Part of him wished he had. And part of him was glad he hadn't. The burden of the secret was heavy and sometimes, he felt the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He wondered what Arthur would do if he told him. Would Arthur have him arrested and executed like all the others who practiced magic? Or perhaps Arthur would understand and help keep his secret? Merlin wished so much that someday, he'd be able to tell Arthur the truth about everything. As always, Merlin had to remain in the shadows.

But oh how he suffered and is still suffering. Merlin had thousands of stories to tell and records to straighten out. Why should Arthur not know of all those times Merlin had to suffer alone? All those times he had to run off in the middle of the night just to throw himself in the path of evil sorcerers, witches, enchantresses, and mystical beings. And all the times he'd been captured and tortured, he never once gave up any information. He was loyal to Arthur and would never betray him at any cost. It was all for Arthur. Merlin suffered more than anyone could imagine and most of it alone. He knew there were no guarantees that he'd come back alive after these secret missions, but he had to do it.

Somehow, he'd been wrong about a few things. He used to think that no one cared and that everyone was as selfish as the king himself. But he realized now that he was loved more than he knew. If he wasn't somewhat loved, Arthur would not have gone through all the trouble and raced against time to bring him to the one place where he could be saved. Even more so, if Gaius showed no love towards the young warlock, he would not be there caring for and fussing over him like the son he never had. Arthur was a prat most of the time, but the bond he had with Merlin was like that of blood brothers. They had a fair share of cat fights and moments of truths. But when the going got tough, they stood together.

Tears welled up behind Merlin's big river blue eyes. All the magic in the world wouldn't be enough to control the emotions that Merlin felt. There was hardly any strength left in his body to hold the tears in. He turned to look at the ceiling before the first of the tears started rolling out of his eyes. The hot tears blurred his vision and as they fell, new tears brimmed in his eyes.

Arthur was speechless and in awe for a moment. Often times he'd only seen Merlin sad and probably nursing some hurt feelings but he had never actually seen Merlin cry. Merlin was always so good at swallowing the verbal abuse. It wouldn't be like him to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him burst into tears. Arthur realized it must've taken a lot for Merlin to cry. Merlin wasn't always the most obedient servant, but he had a heart of gold and the loyalty that he had shown to Arthur was just beyond words. Arthur saw the hurt and pain in Merlin's tears.

"Merlin…." Arthur began. He glanced at Gaius then back at Merlin, not sure what to say next or how to react. Merlin's breakdown really struck a sort of guilt in Arthur's conscience. Arthur was aware that he often took Merlin for granted and treated him quite poorly.

"I'm sorry, Sire." Merlin mumbled before Arthur could say another word. He was trying to hard not to bawl anymore but his chin shook and that salty lump in his throat just wouldn't go away. It was so uncontrollable that even with closed eyes, the tears streamed out the corner of his eyes.

Merlin sighed and promised to quit crying. He opened his eyes and three large tear drops rolled down his cheek. He didn't think a person could feel so much at the same time. It was all the hurt, sadness, grief, pity, physical pain, gratefulness, love, and thankfulness all rolled into one.

"Gaius, isn't there something stronger you can give him for the pain?" Arthur looked up. Gaius took note of the genuinely concerned expression on Arthur's face and smiled. Arthur showing compassion for Merlin pleased Gaius.

"Perhaps so, my Lord." Gaius got up and made his way to the other side of the room where he kept all his remedies.

"I should be the one to say I'm sorry, Merlin, for everything." Arthur leaned forward and spoke tenderly to Merlin once Gaius was out of earshot. He said this in a whisper, like as if he was deeply ashamed of himself. "It was a quest I should have gone on alone."

"None of this is your fault. Please don't think that way." Merlin's eyes watered again. "If I could, I would do it all over again. No regrets, remember? A poor servant's life for that of the future king's..."

"Stop Merlin, no more of that talk." Arthur said in exasperation. His eyes hardened and mouth quivered. "Why are you so willing to die for me?"

"I've already told you. Camelot needs a great king and you're it. I must do all I can to protect you." Merlin winced slightly.

"You have so much faith in me." Arthur shook his head in dismay as he watched another tear slid down Merlin's cheek. _He must be suffering so much,_ Arthur thought.

"Faith in you, Arthur, as does many people." Merlin said while observing Arthur. "That's a very different look you're wearing. I don't believe I've ever seen it before. Could it be that you actually care about me?" This was Merlin's attempt to be humorous, but it was lacking due to the teardrops that fell down his face every so often.

"Care about _you_?" Arthur shot back in defense, but it was clear to Merlin what was happening. "With you lying here, who's going to polish my boots, wash my clothes, tidy my room, and serve me my meals? By the way, my chain mail needs to be cleaned." They shared a special sort of language involving insults that only the best of friends could understand.

"I swear you've got to be the most supercilious prat the kingdom has ever known." Merlin replied with shakiness in his voice that made Arthur's skin crawl.

"You love to use big words, don't you, _Mer_lin? Think you're so smart? Well, it doesn't suit you. You're just a simple minded servant." Arthur shot back harshly but softened up. For the first time, the corners of Arthur's lips curled up into a smile. Merlin tried to grin back but instead, a tear managed to squeeze out of his eye. "Merlin, don't cry."

"I just can't stop it." Merlin said.

"You've been through a lot and you have every right to feel the way you do. For what it's worth, I understand your pain. I promise no harm will ever come to you again." Arthur vowed.

Merlin remained quiet and allowed the spirited words to echo in his head. Besides, it wasn't every day that he received such kind words from Arthur. He had to take whatever he could get. By then, Gaius made it back to his bedside with a small vial of medicine. Merlin drank the dark liquid and washed it down with a cup of water.

"I just can seem to put the pieces together. When we were separated in the fog, I saw nothing, felt nothing, and heard nothing. I called for you but no answer. The fog was thick and suffocating. When the fog lifted, I saw you running towards me chasing that dagger." Arthur pointed to an object on the table.

Upon those words, Merlin turned his head to where Arthur just pointed. He couldn't actually see the dagger, but it frightened him to know that the weapon that almost killed him was in the same room. Merlin turned a paler shade of white, like he'd seen a ghost. Gaius saw the fear in the young warlock's eyes. It truly pained him to see Merlin so vulnerable and scared.

"It's alright Merlin. Arthur only brought it back to see if I could make some sense of the events that occurred." Gaius explained with a reassuring voice.

The dagger had been the subject of conversation between Arthur and Gaius before the loud and disruptive moan brought them to Merlin's bedside. Gaius had spent a good of number of hours examining the jeweled dagger from tip to pommel. Even under a magnifying glass, it was an enigma. A weapon designed for killing, but he came to realize that it was also a beautiful work of art. He marveled at how something could be so delicate, yet so deadly. Gaius had already thumbed through several encyclopedias of weaponry and witchcraft in search of any information or connection. He still had a tall stack of books to look through. Thus far, no conclusion had been made.

Merlin's reaction to the dagger was not because he was afraid of it. It was the voice in the fog made him apprehensive. It worried Merlin that the fog knew his true identity and an exposure like that could put everyone in danger, especially Arthur. No one was supposed to know about Emrys. If the fog knew this, why hadn't it used the information against him already? It was such a valuable piece of information. Surely, it must be worth something to all the evil sorcerers out there. It's no wonder they weren't pounding down the door. Merlin had no logical explanation on what the fog meant to accomplish.

In the time that Merlin served as Arthur's manservant, there had been many attempts made on Arthur's life – some of them known to him and some not so known. It should only be natural that a Prince should have just as many enemies, who wished him dead and Camelot overthrown. As far as Merlin was concerned, all the assassins and monsters sent to kill Arthur in the past were comprehensible. The intention of the fog was anything but clear. The thought did come to Merlin that perhaps the fog meant to do harm to him and not Arthur. He couldn't be certain. He remembered the conversation with the fog. It just seemed too personal for Arthur to be the main target. Gaius was the only person he could confide in with such matters. Merlin longed for Arthur to leave the room so he could talk to Gaius.

"Merlin, you don't need to worry. It won't hurt you again." Arthur said. Merlin turned his gaze to the prince and tried his best to be composed. "Just when the dagger was about to run through me, you stepped in its path. I heard you cry out and the next thing I knew the fog moved in again. I called out to you. I tried to run to you, but it appeared I was running to nowhere." He ignored the sickening feeling as he recalled the events. "When the fog lifted again, I found you. Was there anything peculiar that happened to you while we were in that fog?"

"Er, nothing out of the extreme ordinary. I mean, I'm not sure what you mean." Merlin's lips trembled. It looked like he was about to say something then refrained and stared at the folds of his blanket.

"What is it Merlin?" Arthur decided as he observed Merlin's shifty behavior.

"Nothing, Sire." Merlin answered as innocently as possible. He wanted with all his heart to tell Arthur the complete honest truth, but knowing that he couldn't, grieved him the most.

"Come on, Merlin. I know that look. Let's hear it. You've got something to say. It might be helpful in figuring out what happened." Arthur said. Merlin looked helplessly at Gaius for support.

"It's alright my dear boy." Gaius comforted, but the look in his eyes told Merlin to leave the you-know-what parts out.

"It spoke to me." Merlin said nervously with Arthur and Gaius both very attentive.

"What'd it say?" Arthur demanded to know.

"It threatened your life. It asked me how much I'm willing to sacrifice for your safety. And I said, well, everything." Merlin began. He could see Arthur's coldness melt away.

Arthur was both angered and moved by Merlin's loyalty. It angered him that Merlin always put his life on the line for a cause that he felt so strongly that Arthur was someday going to become a great king. It angered him that there were so many who wanted to see Camelot conquered and Pendragon dethroned. It angered him that Merlin was not a more selfish servant. Perhaps because of this, Arthur also felt extremely moved by Merlin's integrity and perseverance. Merlin was not a bootlicker. He was the only one who ever dared to give candid advice.

"It said you, Arthur, will die. I couldn't let that happen. I had to intervene. Then that dagger appeared out of nowhere. The fog called it a name…er….some odd name…" Merlin closed his eyes to try and remember. His eyes shot open. "The Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel. That's it! That's the name the fog used. The fog said 'Tintagel is where it all began' and that 'the beginning shall meet the end."

Gaius straightened in his seat upon hearing the word 'Tintagel'. It shocked him to hear that word after it had been forgotten for so many years. It was supposed to be dead and buried, never to be brought up and yet, it has returned to haunt him again. Very few people knew about Tintagel. The healthy color in Gaius' cheeks suddenly disappeared.

"What is it Gaius? Have you heard of this before?" Arthur asked when he noticed the change in Gaius' body language.

"Perhaps I have. But it was a very long time ago." Gaius said, as if deep in thought.

"Tell me what you know about Tintagel." Arthur said.

"Arthur, I'm not sure I should…" Gaius' voice trailed off in hesitation.

"Do not hold the suspense. I want an answer. What's this about?" The prince insisted.

"It's about your mother." Gaius replied.

"My mother?" Arthur sounded surprised.

"Tintagel was a place near the shore of the sea where your mother once lived." Gaius told, leaving out a good amount of the truth.

Like Merlin, Gaius also had secrets. He wanted to come clean and tell Arthur about his birth but he made a vow to Uther never to speak of the matter, it being a delicate situation. Gaius always felt that Arthur had a right to know that sorcery was involved in his existence. Because Ygraine was barren, Uther made a deal with Nimueh, the sorcerer, and through it, allowed Ygraine to conceive a child. "A life for a life", that was the simple rule. But no one was to know that the life taken would be Ygraine's life. Thus began the Great Purge. Enraged with hate and grief, King Uther ordered execution of all sorcerers and banned magic.

"Hmm, 'Tintagel is where it all began'…'the beginning shall meet the end'." Gaius quoted. His eyes had a faraway look. "If you don't mind me, Sire." The physician made his way to a bookcase and for a moment seemed to be searching for a particular book. "Ah, here it is." He pulled out a thick brown book with gold binding entitled _Artifacts and Relics in_ _History _and returned to the chair by Merlin's bed.

"You mean to tell me that all this has something to do with my mother?" Arthur was astonished. He watched Gaius thumb through a number of pages and came to a stop in the middle of the book.

"I've found it." Gaius said as he swung the book around for Arthur and Merlin to see. Right there on the top of the page, was a sketch of the Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel, an exact copy of the actual item and underneath it, was some paragraphs of writing.

"What does it say?" Merlin asked.

"It says here that The Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel belonged to a seer named Theodorius, who served as a great oracle to the High Queen of Tintagel during the times of the Old Religion. He was extremely loyal and stood by the Queen through all times – victories, conquests, scandals, wars, famines, plagues, all sorts of oddities. She valued his advice and never questioned his guidance. As a result, she led a fruitful, rich, and powerful kingdom. In recognition of his talents, the Queen made him her adviser and gave him a place in the high council. With his good judgment and ability to see truth in its raw form, he protected her from evil dark forces." Gaius told.

_Now why does that story sound so familiar?_ Merlin thought ironically.

"The Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel was a gift to Theodorius from the Queen. And as a gesture of respect and gratitude, Theodorius always wore the dagger in a leather sheath on his belt. He never let it out of his sight. Decades passed and when the Queen died, it is said that Theodorius was so stricken with grief that he disappeared. There were searches but no one found any traces of him. The people were led to believe that he had vanished into the air." Gaius said. "Some believed that he transformed himself into a fog and surrounded Tintagel to protect and hide it from marauders. Well, fog is not uncommon on coastal regions such as Tintagel, but that was the legend." He closed the book. "But still, without direction and leadership, the city fell apart."

"Is the dagger enchanted?" Arthur asked curiously.

"The object itself has no reason to be enchanted. It merely served as an artifact having belonged to someone of importance." Gaius answered.

"The only connection I see between my mother and this dagger is that they were both from Tintagel. Do you suppose this fog – Theodorius – had something to do with all this? Even so, why should he hold vengeance against me? I have done him no wrong." Arthur inquired.

"Truth be told Arthur, there are many enemies that you have acquired because of the fact that you are the King's son." Gaius said. "Your father has stepped on many toes to get to where he is right now – some good and some bad. If they cannot destroy Uther, they will try to assassinate the sole heir to Camelot's throne."

Merlin slowly felt the numbing effects of the medicine working. The medicine was strong and it made him shudder slightly but it was far better than feeling constant pain. Now if only Gaius could give him something to make the room stop spinning.

"One such enemy was Gorlois, the Duke of Cornwall." Gaius hesitated before continuing. "Gorlois was Ygraine's first husband and a very jealous man. Once your father fell in love with Ygraine, there was nothing anyone could do to keep him from trying to win her affections. And when Gorlois found out, war was declared. Gorlois hid Ygraine in a castle at Tintagel, thinking it would be the one place no one would find her. While Gorlois prepared for a long battle, Ygraine lived among the people and gained their respect. She helped many people, most of them poor. She tried to lead them out of poverty."

Gaius paused for a moment. He was conflicted. He didn't want Arthur to find out about his mother's tainted past this way. It was not a story he should be telling, but he also felt that Arthur deserved to know something about his mother's past. Uther only said never to bring up how Arthur was conceived. He didn't say not to disclose information about Ygraine's history.

"Uther had resources at his disposal and soon found Ygraine's location. While the battle commenced on the other side of the country, Uther went to Tintagel in disguise. He captured her and brought her back to Camelot. Meanwhile, Gorlois died in battle. Uther declared his victory and Ygraine became his bride. Shortly after Ygraine left Tintagel, the city fell into ruins." Gaius said.

"It couldn't have been mother's fault for the city going into ruins." Arthur said. "Do they blame her?"

"Ygraine was like a glimmer of hope. They called her The Rescuer. Her disappearance from Tintagel upset many people. But I wouldn't say they blamed Ygraine. Rather, they blamed Uther. It was he who took Ygraine away." Gaius said. "You are the most important thing to Uther. To get him where it hurts is to harm you."

"So, if this fog was really Theodorius, why did he speak only to Merlin and not to me?" Arthur asked.

"Perhaps Merlin has a weaker mind than you." Gaius said. He couldn't tell Arthur the real reason why Theodorius spoke to Merlin. In fact, there was a lot he figured out that he wasn't telling Arthur. He purposely neglected to tell Arthur about that last paragraph in the book.

"Isn't that the truth." Arthur commented humorously. He appeared to have accepted Gaius' justification. "What do we do about this?"

"We should leave it be." Gaius said. "There is nothing anyone can do."

"We can't just lick our wounds and treat it like nothing's happened." Arthur said.

"I know you're angry and seek revenge. But you also have to understand that sometimes, there are things you can't explain and you have to find it in yourself to let it go. You are not in danger anymore." Gaius reasoned. "I'm just glad both you and Merlin are safe."

"Well, I guess you're right." Arthur said after a moment's pause. Gaius had never been wrong before and his words often had logic, so it was easy to be convinced by the old physician. Although Arthur would not admit it, he was quite fatigued and desired rest all the same. He had a long and taxing journey.

"My lord, might I suggest you go to bed. You look exhausted." Gaius said as if reading Arthur's mind. "Here, take this. It'll help your mind ease so you can sleep better." He handed the prince a small vial containing a purplish liquid.

"Thank you, Gaius." Arthur said and turned to Merlin. "I don't expect you to service me tomorrow considering your situation. I will manage without you."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Sire." Merlin spoke respectfully. Arthur watched Merlin's bloodless lips move. Even though Merlin was covered with blanket, Arthur noticed that the servant was still shivering slightly from what he guessed to be cold or fever.

"Just aim to get well." Arthur's tone was empathetic and surprisingly tender as he got up from his seat. "I will see you tomorrow."

Merlin watched Arthur bid Gaius good night and make his way to the door. It felt like waiting an eternity for Arthur to finally exit the room. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Arthur's company. He really did. But Merlin was aching to talk to Gaius alone.

"The fog called me Emrys." Merlin said as soon as the door closed behind Arthur. "It knows who I am."

"I have reason to believe that it knows you because you were the one targeted, not Arthur."

"No one is supposed to know I'm Emrys."

"There is something I didn't tell Arthur. According to the book, Theodorius was a seer of truth. It is believed that his spirit lives in the fog, seeking worthiness and truth as it is needed. When a great prophecy is made, he will seek upon it to validate the merit of those involved. Perhaps it has foreseen the rise of a great king and since it is your destiny to secure Arthur's path, your integrity must be tested."

"So this was a test?" Merlin spewed, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. "You mean, I almost got killed, for the purpose of proving myself worthy? Well, all he had to do was ask."

Gaius chuckled at Merlin's sudden display of annoyance. "You are a very powerful warlock, Merlin, least you should forget. If your intensions were two-sided, well, then Camelot would be in serious trouble. Power corrupts. You don't want to end up like Morgana."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about. I would never betray Arthur." Merlin promised. "Theodorius must've somehow gotten his information wrong. Suppose I really did die, then who would fulfill the destiny?" Merlin huffed.

"I don't think you were meant to die. Things happen for a reason. Perhaps this was something of a test for Arthur as well. He could've very well abandoned you. But he didn't. It shows he has compassion for humanity, regardless of class."

"I suppose it makes sense now. Theodorius created the Crixobus to attack our land and livestock, knowing that eventually actions would be taken to hunt it down. Arthur would sooner or later go on a quest to kill the beast. And I usually go with him. So, the Crixobus would lure us out of Camelot. Convenient." Merlin said. "Awful lot of trouble just to test our loyalty. There are so many easier ways of doing that."

"Theodorius knows who you are but I think it's safe to say that he will never reveal your identity. He is a benevolent spirit and serves the good."

"Benevolent spirit? He has an odd way of showing his benevolence." Merlin winced. "So what happens now, with the dagger?"

"Arthur said it'll be placed in the vaults, where it'll most likely be forgotten for centuries and centuries. No one ever goes into the vaults."

"So, what you said before about Arthur's mother - was that all true?" Merlin asked. "Or was that a cover for the real story?"

"It was true. It gave Theodorius more reason to step into the picture. He might've hated Uther, but Ygraine was good to his people. He didn't have anything against her. Arthur has Uther blood in him and therefore, Arthur had more to prove." Gaius said. "Anyway, you needn't be bothered with any more of these things. Right now, you need to rest and get well."

As Gaius tucked the blanket around Merlin, he noticed the young warlock was trembling. Merlin tried not to let it show, but the muscles in his body just wouldn't cooperate. "Ah, the remedy I gave you is strong. Not to worry, it'll soon grant you a comfortable sleep – free of pain."

"Thank you, Gaius." Merlin mumbled.

"No need to thank me." Gaius said humbly. He reached over and kissed Merlin's warm forehead. It wasn't something he often did and this was probably one of those rare moments, but Gaius came too close to losing Merlin. "Your mother left you in my charge and I intend to treat you like my own. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. We're family."

Merlin treated Gaius like a father, friend, and teacher. He had grown very fond of Gaius over the years and accepted his paternal affection with open arms. No one in the world understood him as well as Gaius. Gaius accepted him, loved him, and never thought of Merlin as a monster for being born with magic. Gaius gave good advice and really, truly cared about him. The simple kiss on the forehead seemed to make all Merlin's aches and pains disappear. He felt incredibly safe in Gaius' presence.

"I know you're not feeling too well. You should rest, Merlin." Gaius read Merlin's thoughts. "Close your eyes. I'll be right here." He added when Merlin showed reluctance in conforming to Gaius' advice.

Gaius studied Merlin's face for a while. He noticed the dark, unhealthy circles under Merlin's eyes and the purplish tint of his lips. There was so much pity that Gaius felt for Merlin. Merlin was so young yet he had such a big responsibility. A day never went by without Gaius wishing there was something he could do to lessen Merlin's burden. He noticed how tired Merlin had gotten over the last few weeks. But it wasn't the same type of tiredness one begets from excessive hard work and that nothing a nice holiday wouldn't fix. It was the kind of tiredness that one struggled with inside. He had secrets to keep and a prince to protect. It can't be easy being Arthur's guardian angel all hours of the day. Merlin was indeed tired.

Merlin finally closed his eyes. He realized how exhausted he was and craved sleep upon sleep. The pillow behind his head and mattress under his body suddenly felt insanely comfortable. It was like as if his body was cradled by a big fluffy cloud. Merlin gave a satisfied sighed. His eyebrows furrowed for a second like as if he was troubled by something, then his whole face relaxed. In an instant, he was asleep.

**End of Chapter 3**

**Author's Note:**** Thank you so much for reading/ reviewing/ favorites/ alerts! Please sign a review if you get a chance.**


	4. The Return of the Fog

**Chapter 4:**** The Return of the Fog**

**One Week Later…**

After a long grueling day of strategy, battle training, weapons practice, and endless meetings with Uther and the high council addressing state affairs on finance and trade, Arthur liked to cap the night by sinking his tired aching body into a nice relaxing hot bath. On such days, Merlin had Arthur's bath ready like clockwork. The moment Arthur entered his room, he would find Merlin boiling water at the fireplace. Arthur would kick off his boots and disappear behind the screen to remove his clothing, all the while without saying a word. And by the time he reappeared, Merlin would be adding the last bucket of hot water into the tub, making it a perfect sultry temperature, giving off exactly the right amount of steam. Arthur would go straight from the screen to the tub. Settling into the water, Arthur allowed the therapeutic effects of the hot water to loosen every muscle in his body. He would lean against the bow of the tub and give a satisfied sigh. Only then, would he start a conversation with Merlin.

Merlin was on his ninth trip to the water pump with a large empty wooden bucket in tow. It usually took at least ten full buckets to complete Arthur's bath and he was running on a tight schedule. Going back and forth from Arthur's room to the water pump in the main square took at least a few minutes between intervals. In order for Arthur to receive his bath at his desired time, Merlin couldn't afford to mess up the system that he had going.

No one could possibly know the exhausting day Merlin had running around doing his job from dawn till dusk. He could use magic to lighten his load, but Gaius advised him that he had to use his gift wisely and not out of convenience or laziness. Besides, he couldn't risk getting caught. Therefore, Merlin had to do things the old-fashioned way sans magic. Being Arthur's servant wasn't an easy job. There were never-ending chores and details that needed to be fulfilled in accordance with Arthur's specific wishes. By the end of the day, Merlin was aching and sore all over. He kept telling himself that it came with the territory and that his work was for the good of the kingdom. Right then, fixing a nice hot bath for himself instead didn't sound so bad. He used both calloused hands to grasp the handle of the bucket as he walked down the corridors. He wondered how an empty bucket could be so heavy.

Merlin may have been up and about, but his body was still recovering from the blow that almost killed him. It had been a week since it happened but Merlin remembered it like it was yesterday. His shoulder was constantly sore from the demands of strenuous work, but he didn't complain. He was glad to go back to work and have something to occupy his time instead of lying about in bed. Besides, Arthur probably couldn't spare one more day without a servant cleaning up after him. On a light note, Merlin was grateful when he saw that Arthur tried very hard to keep his room tidy during his absence. Though, a few articles of clothing strewn about on the floor couldn't be helped.

Exhaustion building on his lanky frame, Merlin finally reached the main square and dropped the bucket in front of the pump. The chilly night air filled his sinuses and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was times like these that he wished he remembered to don his neckerchief before leaving his room. Sometimes, he just didn't think. He looked up and noticed a scatter of clouds dotting the otherwise darkened sky.

Merlin liked the peacefulness the night brought, especially when the crowds have thinned out and the noise level dwindled down to a soft hum of conversation. He practically had the whole place to himself. He could see the light from the windows in the homes and imagined how people were unwinding themselves from the toils of their trade. In the lonely atrium, two men walked pass Merlin with tool bags swung over their shoulders. Their hearty laughter and menial voices stuck to Merlin until they reached out of earshot.

Even when the people were going home, Merlin was usually still running some errand or finishing off some chore Arthur ordered. He often knew how late it was when the big burly guards that patrolled the castle grounds have changed shifts. Merlin wondered where all the time had gone. He mucked out the stables, polished Arthur's armor, tidied Arthur's room, scrubbed the floor, washed Arthur's laundry, picked medicinal herbs for Gaius in the forest, and ran an array of errands all over the city. He was sore to the bone and would've gotten a break or even the rest of the day off if only he asked. But he didn't want Arthur to think he was losing his grip on things. Besides, Arthur needed him and for a change, the prince was starting to treat Merlin with a new found sort of respect.

The young warlock rubbed his aching wrists from hauling the buckets of water. Just as he was about to crank the pump, the air around him thickened. A familiar thin line of dusty grey smoke swirled out of the air and circled him. His heart pounded against his chest as he watched the line of smoke circle around him several times before changing into a light fog. Within seconds, the fog swallowed everything and turned his world into an abyss of grey.

The humidity of the fog suffocated Merlin as it became heavier and heavier. Sticky moisture formed on his hands and the back of his neck as he stood still. Even though his breath quickened, his mind was quite calm. He wasn't afraid, only anxious. He suddenly understood why Theodorius choose to become fog. Fog may appear harmless, but it had many strengths. Fog had the power to hide and obscure things from plain sight. It had the power to confuse and blind. The density of fog could smother any living organism and kill them on the spot. Merlin breathed in the warm air and waited patiently for Theodorius to speak.

"Young Emrys, we meet again." The raspy old voice of the fog hissed.

"Theodorius." Merlin called.

"I see you've been doing your homework." Theodorius replied.

"You wouldn't tell me who you were last time." Merlin spoke into the fog.

"I trust you know something about my history now." Theodorius said. His resonating voice seemed to be coming from all directions.

"So, did we pass your test?" Merlin spat. His fists clenched into balls. There was a bit of anguish and resentment in Merlin's tone.

"With flying colors, Emrys. I am very pleased. I hope you won't take this little evaluation of loyalty too personal. You see, it was necessary."

"It was because of you that I almost died."

"Sometimes, tests have consequences." The fog said nonchalantly. "But your life was in Prince Arthur's hands and he proved to be quite remarkable – saving a poor servant, whose life in any other court would've been deemed worthless. Going through all the trouble to save you was a humane gesture on his part and I must admit that I was a little surprised. The nature of a Pendragon is not one of mercy and empathy. Arthur appears to be different. He has proven to care about his people and those under his jurisdiction."

"Why do you test our loyalty now?" Merlin demanded.

"The time is very near for the rise of the once and future king. The prophecy reveals that you, young Emrys, will play a big part in this dawn of the new day. You are a very powerful warlock. I had to make sure your heart was in the right place." Theodorius explained. "A betrayal would mean the downfall of mankind itself. Do not underestimate your power. If you were to turn to the dark side, the world would be lost as we know it."

"I would never betray Arthur. He's my friend." Merlin did not know whether he should be angry or glad that he passed this so-called evaluation of loyalty.

"Actions speak louder than words, Emrys. You have shown your loyalty to Arthur in the past, but this was the ultimate act of loyalty. I detected no second thoughts nor have you exhibited even the slightest sign of reluctance. You are willing to give all and sacrifice everything on the spot to secure Arthur's destiny."

"What if I did hesitate? What if I allowed you to kill Arthur? What would that prove?" Merlin cried. Fatigue was starting to catch up. He suddenly felt weak and sick. The mental and physical strains of the day were taking a rough toll on his body, and now this.

"Oh, Arthur's safety was not an issue. I had a feeling you would try and stop it. I just didn't plan on you throwing yourself in front of the dagger." Theodorius scolded. "His actions thereafter made me realize his true character. Even through heavy rains and inconveniences, he still showed the same determination to save you. He did everything in his power to comfort you – found shelter, made a fire, dressed your wound, fed you water and he even gave you his blanket. It was no longer a servant serving a master, but a master serving a servant – a most interesting concept."

Merlin stood there in a trance-like state, listening and feeling the low-pitched sound of Theodorius' voice bouncing in his head. It was a little harder to breathe with the entrapment of the fog. There was a slight tickle of pain stemming from the base of his neck.

"You still have so much to learn, but that will come within time." Theodorius continued. "You will be met with many challenges. The years to come will be turbulent, this I will not lie. The kingdom under Arthur's reign will cause great changes and power will come to all of Camelot. He will fight for his people with outspoken courage. However, the boundaries of good and evil magic will be tested. He will not succeed without you."

"Am I supposed to take this as some sort of pep talk then?" Merlin leered.

"Emrys, I don't blame you for your bitter feelings toward me. But you must see it from my perspective. I am a great oracle, a seer. In the nature of all prophecies, visions are not all as it seems. You of all people should know that. My job is to protect the people and to make sure individuals are worthy of their futures." Theodorius said with patience. "Sometimes, you feel taken for granted, that no one appreciates all the things that you've done. You feel you have to deal with everything alone. Believe me when I tell you that I know what that's like. Arthur is like a grand eagle spreading his impressive wings and soaring into the vast sky, and you – you are the invisible wind that lifts him up to where he is. No one sees the importance of your role. Without the support of the wind, the eagle will fall."

"I suppose. Two sides of the same coin. I've already heard that philosophy." Merlin murmured. He suddenly found himself identifying with Theodorius.

"You remind me of myself at your age." Theodorius laughed. "You are not a nobody. Don't think for a minute that your work and efforts will never be recognized. There will be a right time and place when your greatness will be revealed. Until then, you must remain humble and patient."

"You're beginning to sound like Gaius."

"Well then, he's in the right." Theodorius said.

"So, is it true?" Merlin softened. He couldn't continue to be angry with Theodorius. Merlin saw how Theodorius was only doing his job. He didn't mean to hurt anyone the way he had. Merlin could've used his magic to stop the dagger, but that would've meant revealing his true identity to Arthur.

"Is what true?" Theodorius asked.

"Legend has it that when the Queen died, your grief was so bad that you transformed into a fog and surrounded Tintagel to protect and hide it from marauders." Merlin said, thoroughly changing the subject.

"Well, let's just say that it was my time to become something greater." Theodorius said after a hearty laugh. There was a slight pause before the fog continued in a soft voice. "Thank you, Emrys, for your forgiveness."

"Is that why you came back? To seek my forgiveness?" Merlin questioned inquisitively.

"That is part of the reason." Theodorius admitted. "I believe you have something that belongs to me. If you know my history, you'll know that the Jeweled Dagger of Tintagel has never left my side. It was the one gift that I highly treasured and I would like to have it back."

"It's in the vaults beneath Camelot. I'd get it, but well, it'll take a little time. There is a key that Arthur keeps beside his bed, and I'd have to sneak pass the guards…" Merlin rambled, exhaustion getting the better of him. Speaking in sentence fragments was not like Merlin at all.

"There is no need." Theodorius said. The fog shifted and rolled in a circular motion, making Merlin a little dizzy. Within a matter of seconds, the beautiful, gem encrusted dagger materialized in front of Merlin.

"How…?" Merlin stared at the gleaming dagger with a mesmerized look on his face.

"It's one of the advantages of being fog. I can go places where humans cannot – through cracks and keyholes. All I needed to know was location." Theodorius said.

"Show off." Merlin retorted.

"No need to be jealous, young Emrys. Your power is no match for anyone." Theodorius consoled. In a blink of an eye, the dagger vanished. "For now, my purpose here is done."

"Will I ever see you again?" Merlin asked.

"Perhaps our paths will cross again in the future. When the time comes, know that you have an ally." Theodorius promised, leaving things amicable. "Good bye, Emrys." By now, Merlin understood that certain things were not meant to be over-analyzed.

Before Merlin could breathe another word, the fog dissipated and freed him. His breathing immediately became easier as the air cleared. The fog was starting to suffocate him and the lack of oxygen to the brain was rendering him faint. The silhouettes of the castle towers reappeared, as did the outlines of treetops and homes down in the village. He felt the hard texture of cobbled stone beneath his tired feet. And the light smell of burning fire wood wrinkled Merlin's nose.

The young warlock found himself alone in the main square in front of the water pump with his empty wooden bucket. It was like time stood still and no one else heard or seen anything out of the ordinary. The burly guards at the front door did not stir from their posts. He felt a draft as an occasional night breeze penetrated through the fabric of his clothing. He snapped out of his stupor and got back to work. After all, Arthur's bath wasn't going to draw itself. He cranked the pump until the bucket was full of water.

Merlin lugged the bucket as fast as he could through the twists and turns of corridors of the castle. It was heavy and he was trying to walk as quickly as possible. Arthur was going to show up any minute, demanding his bath. He was just down the hall from Arthur's room when a strain in his shoulder caused him to lose his hold on the handle of the bucket.

Luckily, the sloshing bucket of water did not tip over. If that were the case, Merlin would have his work cut out for him. Not only would he have to clean up the mess, he'd have to fetch another bucket of water and that would mean Arthur was not going to get his bath on time. A small puddle of water splashed out as the bottom of the bucket smacked loudly against the floor. His shoulder was hurting something fierce. He gave his shoulder a good rub and hoped the stiffness would subside. He pressed upon a tender spot and a small expression of pain escaped his lips.

Being this late in the evening, Merlin was confident that no one heard him. The route leading to Arthur's room at the end of the hall was usually a restricted area, for the sole purpose of security. There were two guards posted outside the corridor at all times. Only the most trusted people were allowed to go through the passage without suspicion or interrogation. This included Merlin and Gaius. Merlin groaned as he stretched. He was paying the price for exerting pressure on the weak shoulder completing his duties. He then shook off his arm and proceeded to lift the heavy bucket again.

It was a matter of three steps before he dropped the bucket again. He wasn't sure if he could go on. He felt incredibly sick from fatigue. His whole body was pinching with pain. He could barely keep his eyes open. And he'd just gone through a weird conversation with the fog. At this point, he couldn't even stand straight. He breathed a quivering sigh that seemed to echo off the stone walls of the hallway. No one was there to witness this – or so he believed.

Just when Merlin was about to make another attempt to reach for the bucket, someone came from behind and agilely snatched the handle. Merlin was surprised that anyone would be roaming the halls at this late hour. He was about to say something when he saw the red cape with the Pendragon insignia centered on the back. His eyes traveled to the head of blond hair and recognized it to be Arthur. He had taken up the bucket effortlessly in one hand and headed towards his room like as if he didn't have time to stop for explanations or inquiries. He clearly saw that Merlin was in pain and needed help. Hence, he wasted no time. Merlin scurried along trying to catch up to Arthur's pace.

Apparently, Arthur was on his way to his room when he caught a glimpse of his servant crossing the intersection dragging that bucket of water. Being preoccupied in his own thoughts, Merlin had noticed no one and certainly had no idea that Arthur was only a few steps behind him. It didn't surprise Arthur to see his clumsy manservant dropping things. He knew Merlin wasn't exactly the most coordinated person in the world and this gave the perfect opportunity for Arthur to harass him. He was about to do this when he saw how Merlin recoiled in pain and struggling with a simple task.

"When you need something to be done, you just have to bloody do it yourself. Can't rely on an idiot servant to do a proper job these days. I swear, good servants are so hard to find. Come on, _Mer_lin. You've been slacking off way too much." Arthur puffed loudly in exasperation as he stomped pass the two guards that were posted outside the corridor that led to his room.

From the look in their eyes, the two guards heard Arthur belittling his servant, but did not budge from their firm stance. It was in their nature to stand unaffected by the gossips and mishaps between royalty and lowly servants. In fact, the castle guards often categorized themselves in an entirely different class than the hired help. Even though they didn't possess the same prestige as knights, they were a step below the knights, yet a step above service men. This didn't mean they were less loyal or less important. They had a job just like anyone, and that was to serve the king.

Merlin followed Arthur into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Sorry about that, Merlin. I had to keep up with appearances, you know. Gossips worth it's weight in gold. You never know what'll happen if word gets out that I helped you do your job. But really, you should take it easy a bit. You've only just recovered." Arthur said carrying the bucket towards the fireplace. He did not wait for his servant to speak. "So, where does this water go? In there?" He nodded to a pot heating water over the fire.

"Yes." Merlin murmured. He was standing in the middle of the spacious room, still trying to grasp what Arthur had done. The room swam in slow motion.

"Well, you're awfully quiet. You usually have an earful for me by now." Arthur said while pouring the bucketful of bath water into the iron pot. Just as he finished and set the bucket down, he looked up at Merlin.

To Arthur's horror, Merlin looked ghastly like as if he hadn't slept in days. Due to Arthur's hectic schedule, he hadn't had time to interact with Merlin all day. In the course of that one day, it was quite shocking to see such a drastic difference. This wasn't the same happy-go-lucky Merlin that Arthur was used to. The Merlin he knew was animated and always had an opinion about something. Right now, his servant's face was completely chalk white and cheeks sunken. Arthur detected dark circles under baggy tired eyes practically void of liveliness. Merlin's emaciated body demonstrated a certain willowy slouch. Appearing most sickly, the servant was swaying slightly on his heels.

"Merlin, are you alright?" Arthur exclaimed with concern. He took a step forward.

Before Merlin had a chance to reply that he was fine, his vision blurred and numbness spread about his body immediately. Weak and dizzy, he collapsed over backwards. His back hit the hardwood floorboards with a thud and he felt a small pain as the back of his head smacked against the floor. The only thing he heard before blacking out completely was Arthur calling his name.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried. He rushed over and knelt beside Merlin on the floor.

Arthur shook Merlin by the shoulders gently in anticipation that the servant would regain consciousness. Merlin gave no response at first but a groan finally passed his lips, indicating that he was coming around.

Arthur realized just how much Merlin had changed physically just by grabbing his bony shoulders. Merlin had lost quite a deal of weight. His clothes seemed especially loose on his frame. Arthur was shocked that he hadn't taken notice of this sooner. But it had been an extremely busy last two days and aside from instructing some requests, he barely had the time to really take a good look at his servant.

"Wha-what happened?" Merlin groaned as sensation returned to his feeble body. "Why am I on the floor?" He asked in a disoriented tone. He drew in a few heavy breaths and made an attempt to get up, only to be stopped by Arthur, who by now seemed to wear a most worried expression on his princely face.

"You fainted. Don't get up. Regain some of your strength first." Arthur commanded.

"I did what?" Merlin sounded confused. Suddenly, his eyes widened, like as if he just remembered to do something important. "Oh, I can't have fainted…still need to draw your bath…water's getting cold." He stammered, coming to a seated position and subconsciously kneading his injured shoulder.

"Never mind about the bath. I can take care of it later." Arthur insisted while looking into the eyes of the scrawny figure before him. His serious voice softened to an almost tender whisper. "Merlin, what's going on?"

"It's nothing, Sire. Perhaps I'm just a little weak….and a little hungry."

"When was the last time you had a meal?"

"Huh? Oh. I dunno." Merlin blurted. If he had to actually think of an answer to such a simple question, it was pretty bad. He had so many things to do that food escaped his mind. Then he suddenly remembered the tasty potato cauliflower soup with bacon that Gaius made for him. "I had lunch yesterday." He replied, then realizing it sounded pathetic.

"You mean to tell me that you hadn't eaten anything since then?" Arthur scoffed. The harsh tone was returning as his face hardened into the mean-Arthur that Merlin knew so well.

"I – I – I….it's just that I was kind of busy and lost track of time. Well, err…I had an apple this morning." Merlin stuttered, hoping to defer Arthur's anger.

"I don't understand you, Merlin. Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? You look like death standing on two feet. Are you trying to kill yourself? I will not tolerate this sort of behavior." Arthur scolded. "You will take the time to eat your meals each day."

It was not Arthur's intention to sound callous or coldhearted, because after all, he knew that Merlin had been working exceptionally hard the last two days when he should still be recuperating. Arthur's problem was that he cared about Merlin. He didn't want Merlin to go on neglecting himself this way. He would never admit it, but it truly broke his heart to see Merlin so exceedingly fragile and sick. He blamed himself for not noticing it and for putting Merlin back to work so early.

Arthur pulled Merlin up by the armpits regardless of whether or not he was ready to leave the spot on the floor. Merlin's knees got weak and buckled when Arthur lugged his servant across the room. Even at the end of a long stressful day, Arthur still had the same agility. Without complaint, he caught Merlin and continued to drag him over to the chair. Merlin, still dazed and weak, plopped down on the seat. He rubbed his shoulder again.

"You're an idiot. Do you know that? The whole day, all you ate was an apple?" Arthur admonished.

"I – I also had a biscuit." Merlin suddenly remembered. He didn't realize how comical and ridiculous he sounded until he heard his voice.

"A biscuit. A BISCUIT! That's just great, _Mer_lin." Arthur spat. He tried so hard to hold his tongue but his habit of berating the poor servant always got the better of him. "Damn you, Merlin. The only reason I allowed you back to work was because I thought you were well enough to stand the task. But obviously, you are not ready. It is clear that you're still sick and in pain."

"B-but Sire…"

"Look at you – do you even know you're rubbing your shoulder?" Arthur said. Merlin suddenly realized what he was doing and immediately set his hand away from his shoulder.

"I can get a tonic from Gaius…" Merlin began.

"Do you think a tonic is the answer to everything?" Arthur asked rhetorically. "Once I tell Gaius what happened here, he won't let you out for a week. And quite frankly, I am not against it."

"Oh no! There is so much to do…" Merlin argued. He was in no condition to argue but being stuck in his room for a week will be unbearable.

Without word, Arthur went about setting plates, goblets and utensils at the table in front of Merlin. He poured drinking water from the urn into the goblets. He then went to the end table by the door and brought over the large basket of fruit. He then went back and retrieved the tray of butter, cheeses, and breads covered by a checkered cloth.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" Merlin inquired as he watched his master dart back and forth in the room.

"Here's the plan. Right now, you eat." Arthur instructed as he returned from the other table with another tray in tow. "I was saving this for a snack later. But seeing how things are, I don't see why we can't share. There is plenty for the both of us." He continued as he removed the cloth covering a big rump of cold roast from the cutting board.

"Oh, it's not necessary, but thank you." Merlin said, eyeing the delicious food. It didn't matter that it was cold meat, just looking at it made Merlin's mouth water. But the last thing he wanted was to take food that was meant for the prince.

Arthur had a carving knife and fork in his hand. "Do not disobey me. You will eat." He said, slicing the meat and piled a generous amount of it on Merlin's plate, followed by stacking up his own plate. "Go on, what are you waiting for? An invitation? Dig in."

Merlin hesitantly picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of meat with it. The moment that savory bit of beef touched his tongue, his appetite opened. He hadn't realized how much he missed food until then. It propelled him to wolfing down another piece and then another. He chewed and swallowed ravenously, leaving no time for surface for air. Soon, he gave up the fork and used his fingers to eat. He alternated between the goblet of water and the plate of food feverishly.

"Slow down, will you? You're going to choke on it." Arthur said after a while of staring at his servant attacking the food like a savaged beast.

"Didn't realize how hungry I was." Merlin swallowed a mouthful.

"Bread and cheese?" Arthur pushed the tray forward. Merlin reached over and took a fistful of bread. He knew he shouldn't be so aggressive but after all, Arthur did give permission.

"Thank you, Sire." Merlin said as a little bit of color returned to his cheeks.

"After you eat, I will escort you back to Gaius' chambers." Arthur said after a sigh.

"I know the way to my own room." Merlin bit into a grape.

"You can barely stand on your feet. I'm not about to let you go about wandering the castle at this hour, especially when you're sick."

"Is this you being nice?" Merlin humored with a pitiful yet appreciative smile that tugged at heartstrings and melt the hardest of hearts.

"Nice? Me, nice? Is that what you think now?" Arthur said pompously, not faltering at all. "I'm only looking out for myself. If something happened to you, that would mean I'd have to find a new servant. He would have to go through the _entire_ training process – from the beginning. Do you know the aggravation in teaching an imbecile how to get my armor polished correctly?"

But what he really meant to say was that he wouldn't be able to function without Merlin by his side. And that Merlin had a truly important role in his life. If his best friend were to be taken away from him, well, he wouldn't be able to cope.

"Is that all you care about then – your armor being polished correctly?" Merlin tested. Somehow, he knew Arthur cared. He just liked to see how far Arthur would take it.

Merlin stared at Arthur, whose facial expression was becoming more like that of a volcano ready to explode. "I know. Shut up." Merlin said before Arthur had the chance to give a condescending remark. Arthur nodded in approval.

Merlin continued cleaning off the rest of the food on his plate. He slowed down his pace and ate more like a civilized human being. He had to admit that this was the best meal he'd had in days. Of course, any food that was fit for the prince, most definitely had to be above excellence in quality. Very few servants had the opportunity to experience such divine luxury. Merlin understood how rare this meal was and savored every taste. He even licked his fingers.

Arthur's heart ached as he watched Merlin's famished state, but kept a straight face. It wasn't Merlin's fault that he was acting like this. Any person that's starving would do the same. As soon as Arthur saw Merlin reaching the bottom of his plate, he took up the carving knife and refilled the plate. Merlin made no attempt to refuse the second helping. Arthur poured more water into Merlin's goblet.

"You're a good servant." Arthur said out of the blue.

"I beg your pardon?" Merlin looked up quizzically. He could've sworn he heard Arthur give him a compliment. But that could very well be his ears playing tricks on him. His face cocked to the side in a curious fashion. Arthur had to admit that Merlin looked absolutely ridiculous with food grease smeared all over his mouth. Merlin was eating so fast that he failed to establish proper meal etiquette.

"No, I mean it. You're a good servant. You deserve much better." There was no sarcasm in Arthur's voice. He sounded like he really meant it. Merlin only stared at Arthur and swallowed the food that he was chewing. "I just wanted you to know that I do value our friendship. And – and speaking as a friend, I don't want you going back to work if you are not well. And I can clearly see that you're not well right now. I'm requesting you take a week off to recover properly. You will spend the time sleeping, resting, and eating three square meals a day."

"Sire…" Merlin began, only to be interrupted.

"I've had some experience with similar injuries, so I know a thing or two about what you're going through. Putting pressure on that shoulder is strictly forbidden. Trust me, you'll make it worse if you do. You will refrain from all strenuous work. Your shoulder needs time to heal. It was a mistake to have you back at work so soon. And I should have known better. But I understand now. You are not allowed to make any objections to my orders." Arthur paced about regally with hands behind his back as he instructed Merlin.

"I'll be so behind. How will I ever catch up?" Merlin blurted.

"I will have Sergois do some of the work."

"Sergois? You mean the stable boy?" Merlin sounded disappointed.

"One and the same." Arthur studied Merlin's face. "Is there a problem with him?"

"Err…no. Sergois is a decent fellow. It's just that, that….well…" Merlin stammered. "Well, it's just that I'm the one who knows where everything goes and how you like certain things."

Arthur stopped pacing and eyed his servant. He couldn't help but smile a little. "Merlin, there's no need to be so worried. I have no intentions of replacing you. Sergois' role will only be temporary. He'll do a few things for me here and there."

"Alright, Sire." Merlin mumbled. He didn't know what else to say. Perhaps some time off would be advisable.

"No one can replace you. You're the most annoying, idiotic, opinionated, never-do-as-you're-told servant anyone can put up with." Arthur relaxed a bit. "Besides, it would be too boring without you tormenting me every second of the day."

"Err…Thank you, Sire?" Merlin said, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

"Oh, I have something for you." Arthur said as he was analyzing Merlin's appearance. "I've been so busy. Been meaning to give it back to you. Just didn't get a chance." He went to the wardrobe and fished something out of one of the drawers. He made his way back to where Merlin was seated and held it out towards him.

"It's my neckerchief!" Merlin exclaimed merrily as he recognized the grey piece of fabric in Arthur's hands. Merlin wiped his greasy hands quickly on his pants before taking the freshly laundered neckerchief from Arthur. He didn't think he'd ever see his favorite neckerchief again. The last time he remembered, it was covered in blood and used as a bandage for his wound.

Neckerchiefs were Merlin's trademark accessory. He usually never went anywhere without one. Merlin owned a number of neckerchiefs that came in different solid colors but the grey one was his favorite. His neckerchiefs were objects of great sentimental value. They were made for him by his mother when he had to make his big move from Ealdor to Camelot. Hunith spent a good number of days designing, shopping for the right fabric and colors, and sewing it together. It was his mother's way of telling him that a part of her would always be with him regardless of the distance. Merlin found it comforting and promised to wear it in her honor. No one knew the true significance behind his neckerchiefs. He figured it was his own personal thing and didn't need to explain it to anyone. Besides, nobody takes notice of a servant's attire. Well, maybe except Arthur.

"You're always wearing these silly scarves. I figured you can't do without your security blanket there." Arthur mocked, being as haughty as he possibly could. Merlin ignored Arthur's remark.

"It's a neckerchief, not a scarf, mind you." Merlin corrected.

"Don't look so embarrassed, Merlin. We all have things that hold special meaning to us. I figured your bib – I mean, neckerchief – holds some odd importance to you. You're usually never without one." Arthur said. "So, I saved it."

"It's so clean." Merlin said as he examined it before tying it around his bare neck.

"The blood took forever to come off." Arthur said.

"_You_ washed it?" Merlin catching Arthur's every word.

"Well, I – I …. So what if I did?" Arthur's face reddened. It wasn't his intention to let that slip out.

"Nothing. It's unlike you to do chores – is all." Merlin faltered.

"It's amazing what soap can do." Arthur said in an exaggerated surprised tone. His facial expression then changed to seriousness. "I know I'm not one for scrubbing and washing things and I could've easily had someone do it for me. But this one task, I felt like I had to do it myself. The idea of you dying never occurred to me. You are my manservant and you're supposed to always be there for me. Then seeing the blood….your blood on your neckerchief, Merlin. Made me think that I could actually have lost you." He sighed. "There were moments when you had me worried. Worried that – that I wouldn't get the opportunity to tell you that you'll always have a place in Camelot. No matter what. At the end of the day, I do give a damn about what happens to you. You're not only a good servant, you're also a good friend."

Merlin stared at Arthur in awe. Arthur was the type of prince who, in Merlin's opinion, was very hard to please. Arthur would find a bone to pick about everything, even if the task was done exactly as he ordered. He wasn't the type who poured out feelings to anyone. For fear of showing weakness, he often preferred to keep genuine heartfelt matters secret.

"Thank you, Sire." Merlin finally said. "I'm humbled by your kindness."

Arthur smiled and just as easily as it came, the smile vanished, leaving a threatening look on his face. "And if you breathe a word of any of this to anyone, I promise I'll have you polishing the entire army's armor and shoveling horse dung out of every stable for a month.

"Not a word. Lips are sealed." Merlin assured willingly. With that, Merlin picked up his fork once again.

When Merlin was just about done eating, Arthur took another plate and filled it generously with more slices of meat, bread and cheese, and fruits for his servant to take with him. They headed out the door. Merlin's complexion had gotten slightly better after eating his fill. But overexertion was still a menacing force that pushed his body to exhaustion. He was trying not to stumble too much but, he occasionally tripped on a cobble stone or on the straps of his own boot. Arthur caught him on all these instances.

Merlin clutched onto the plate so securely that if he held it any tighter, his hands might start bleeding. After they innocently passed the two guards at their posts, Arthur helped Merlin carry the plate of food the rest of the way to prevent Merlin from dropping it.

Gaius was in the middle of mixing tonics and remedies when Arthur and Merlin arrived. Merlin made a beeline for the bed by the fireplace, kicked off his boots, and lied down. As Arthur told Gaius about Merlin's little fainting episode, the old physician darted a few worried glances over at the figure lying on the bed. Arthur gave Gaius instructions for the following week and walked over to Merlin.

"I'll come visit you tomorrow." Arthur said to his servant.

"Thank you, Sire for seeing me back to my room." Merlin groaned tiredly.

"Least I could do." Arthur replied. "Well, I should be off."

"Arthur?" Merlin called as the prince headed towards the door. Arthur turned around. "I'm glad to have you as a friend."

Arthur smiled and paused for a brief second. "Good night then. Feel better." With that, Arthur exited the room and closed the door gently behind him.

**The End**

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Hope you've enjoyed this fic. Thank You for all the wonderful comments/reviews! It means so much to me and it's what keeps me going. If it's not too much trouble, please sign a review and let me know how you liked the ending. Thanks a million!**


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